From One Beautiful Queen to Another
by Violets and Lilies
Summary: Not long after their coronation, Susan finds a collection of Swanwhite's old diaries. Throughout the Golden Age, she reads them, and learns about being a Queen and about herself. Fair warning, I don't know how long this will be, so there are likely to be breaks taken, every now and again. If you're going to read, please click "follow"!
1. Becoming Me

Queen Susan wandered listlessly through the halls of her great new home—Cair Paravel was a marvelous place and she was falling more in love with it—with the whole country of Narnia—each and every day.

But this afternoon the eldest queen was unsettled. A delegation from Calormen was coming for the first time today to meet the new Narnian tetrarch and begin the process of establishing new agreements. The Four suspected they would try to take advantage of the Pevensies newness when it came to negotiations. No other delegation would treat them like the Calormenes would, they'd been told, so the next week looked to be the hardest yet known in a reign that was barely five weeks old.

She knew that the next week would be a difficult—they'd been well informed as to how Tarkaans, and Tarkheenas, for that matter, behaved-but she desperately wanted things to go well, to get off on the right foot, you might say. It wasn't like her to be so unsettled—of the four siblings, Susan was the one who was most unflappable—Edmund might be a close second, but Susan's cool head that had gotten them through many a scrape, so she hated feeling like this.

And she wandered the halls.

She came to a hallway, an offshoot of a second story thoroughfare that was only partially illuminated by torches from the main hall. She hadn't been down this hall before, but the castle was large, so that wasn't a surprise.

Curious, she glided slowly noiselessly down it, looking at each ornate doorknob. She counted them by their decoration—a faun, a unicorn, a nymph, a—wait—that door was a bit ajar!

She moved closer and peered through the crack with a pounding heart and a thrill of excitement—if there was one thing she'd learned about Narnia, it was that any curiosity could turn into an adventure.

She found a bedroom, covered with a layer of grime—not really visible from the door, but Susan could _feel_ it. She made a mental note to have it cleaned—preferably before some Tarkaan wandered in!

She pushed the door open, just enough to slip inside, and stared around in wonderment. Susan had, of course, seen more than her share of dirty rooms in a castle that hadn't seen life for one hundred years before she and her siblings were crowned, but there was something about _this room_ that was different—she could _feel_ a difference.

It was quite large, like most of the royal rooms, and dominated by a large bed, perfectly made, as if the user was still in residence, with a thick, but faded and dusty, dark blue comforter with plush ivory pillows mounded high against the ornate mahogany backboard. Sunbeams streamed in though windows that took up half the wall, but they cast a decidedly hazy look, as giant cobwebs stretched across the glass.

Susan turned a slow circle, taking the whole room in, and her eyes fell on the door to a huge walk-in closet. Curiosity propelled her towards it, but her conscience pulled her back—it didn't seem right to pry, even though whoever's room this was had been dead for at least one hundred years. Still, didn't it need to be cleaned out? She looked around again in indecision and saw a tall bookcase, made of cherry wood, next to the bed.

She wondered if a book might calm her nerves. She loved to read, after all, and maybe there would be some useful tidbit about Narnia. And, at any rate, with the Calormenes coming, peering in the closet must be a chore for another day.

She moved cautiously towards the bookshelves—as if she'd disturb someone if she made noise—and found herself attracted to a very old book. The cover was worn and the pages seemed on the verge of saying farewell to the binder, so she gingerly pulled it off the shelf and stared at it. The cover was the same faded blue as the comforter, and it bore the golden outline of a Lion's head. Susan traced the outline with a gentle finger, leaving a clear design on the book, while turning her finger black with grime. She cautiously opened it to the dedication page.

_To my beloved daughter, Swanwhite, that she might record her life's story and be reminded of the lessons that she learns and be reminded of our love and His love in each of those lessons. _

Oh, a diary!

Startled, Susan pulled away from the pages and nearly lost her grip on the fragile book. She set it on the bed and stared. How could she read these private words? Her conscience smote her at the thought of looking in the closet, so how could she read these words?

And yet, the more she stared at the open pages, the more she felt like He wanted her to read it—as if there was some great lesson bound up in these pages that He wanted her to know. She'd heard of Queen Swanwhite, of course—a legend for her beauty—and she was fascinated…

Well, alright, she thought, if that's what you want…

She carefully picked the diary up and settled on the floor, her skirts spreading out like ripples in a pond after a game of rock skipping. Swanwhite must have been only a princess when she wrote these words, she thought, and she was amazed that though the book was falling apart, the words looked as fresh and clear as if the ink had only just dried.

Susan read.

_Oh, my very own diary! How lovely it is to have one! My daddy knew just what I wanted for my birthday—I'm fourteen today, did you know, diary? Oh, I suppose not, you're just a book with pages, after all—it's me who must fill you up with love and life as I write in you. Oh! That reminds me—as if I needed reminding—Aslan came to my birthday party! Can you imagine that? What a thrill it was to see Him—to be close to Him! I love Him so much and I know He loves me. Can you imagine that He loves me more than my mum and dad? I don't know if I could, but that's what He says, so it must be true. _

_Oh, do you know what He told me? He said that one day I'd be very beautiful—the most beautiful queen Narnia would ever know—and that if I looked in a pool my reflection would stay there for a year and a day. At first, I thought it would be great fun and as soon as He left, I went to try it. It didn't work today, and I'm very glad—I'm quite ashamed of myself for doing that and I don't feel at all beautiful. I wonder how my outsides will become so beautiful if my insides feel so ugly?_

_But, do you know, diary? I think I've come up with an answer! I think that He meant that when my insides are beautiful enough, they will leak out of me and coat my outsides. Do you know what that means, diary? That means I'm going to have to be the most beautiful person on the inside, so I can become like that on the outside!_

_It feels like a daunting task, I admit, especially after today, but I'm just going to have to practice being as beautiful as I can, because if I practice being the person I want to become, then I will be the person I want to become._

"Susan!" Lucy's voice echoed urgently, seemingly from far away, to pull the eldest queen back into the present, "Susan, where are you?"

Susan carefully pressed the diary back into its place on the shelf, all the while assuring her younger sister that she had heard and was coming. She heard running feet, and then, Lucy's golden head popped through the closed door, her eyes holding, it seemed, all her nervous excitement.

"The Calormen ship is really close—Peter told me, no wait, he _ordered_ me to find you!"

The younger queen looked up and down, "Say, whose room is this?"

"I'll explain later—let's get to the wharf, before Peter blows his stack!"

* * *

It was mid-morning, the next day, when Peter yanked open the door to the little room that connected their four bedrooms together and the three younger siblings filed in. He would have slammed it if Susan hadn't given him stern look, but after it was shut he let loose with his rant.

"Do they honestly think we'll accept that hogwash? Those insufferable blowhards—I can't—"

"Oh, stop it," Susan censored him tiredly, "We only agreed to an hour of deliberation and it won't do to spend half of it gripping about how unfair their terms are."

Peter ran his hand down the side of his face and neck, sucked in a sharp breath of air, and let it out slowly,

"Alright, Ed, what've you got?"

At that, everyone to settle in to work—taking up the two couches that faced each other across a coffee table—Peter and Lucy facing Susan and Edmund.

Edmund, officially and self-appointed scribe for the tetrarch during these negotiations, spread out his papers, while Susan peered over his shoulder.

"Well, let's see—first, they had the audacity to tell us that one hundred years ago, there was a trade agreement that all but stated they could steal from us with impunity and we had to pay the usual tariffs and taxes."

"I hardly think they said it like that," Lucy broke in.

"You're right, they were much more poetic," Edmund paused long enough to answer her before continuing.

"Next, they brought out a sheet of parchment—the supposed signed agreement—and wanted us to reenact it. They said there'd be trouble with their Tisroc if we didn't—they threatened us! Can you believe that? Of course, the funny part is that their little agreement was freshly inked—not one hundred plus years old. What a forgery—I could have told you from a mile away. And here we are—supposedly reading over the deal one more time and blissfully signing away Narnian rights so that the Tarkaans can get out of here sooner rather than later."

"I'd settle for them just leaving sooner," growled Peter, "It's not even lunchtime and I've had my fill of them."

He reached in and pulled some notes closer to read for a moment before roughly pushing them back.

"Where do you suppose they make this stuff up? When we go to Tashbaan—and I'm sure we will—don't you suppose we should ask?"

Lucy giggled.

"So, what's our counter offer?" Susan asked, trying to get back to business.

"The same thing we've already agreed on," Edmund said, "The _real_ old treaty, with the minor temporary adjustments to account for the fact that Narnia is not quite economically back on her feet."

He pulled out a very old looking parchment and displayed it for all to see.

"This, my fine siblings, is that agreement—I'm sure they left their copy in Tashbaan, but, at least, we can display ours if it comes to that."

"Not much for delicacy, are you, Ed?" Lucy gave him a look, "Well, let's hope the Tisroc doesn't get as upset as his Tarkaans say he will—Narnia isn't ready for another pitched battle, so soon after defeating the Witch—and, of course, there's Archenland to think of—the Tisroc's armies will have to come through there on their way here."

"We need a gentle hand and a cool head, that's for sure," Peter remarked.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and all four heads turned to the grandfather clock against the wall.

"Not time already, is it?" Peter groaned.

But it wasn't.

"Come in," Peter called, curious.

A faun's head poked though the door, "Begging your pardon, your majesties, but we've run into a bit of a problem and I'm afraid it's threefold."

Peter gave a tight smile, "A problem with the Tarkaans?"

"No, sire."

"Then it can't be too bad!"

"Yes, sire, no, sire—well, see, there's a group of Centaurs and Fauns arguing over who gets to use a piece of land in the west, then there's the dwarves from the northern border—they complain of the Ettin Giants damming up the River Shribble where it flows into their mines, and last, but," here he paused to let out an exasperated sigh, "_apparently_ not least, there's a young Talking foal that fell in some muck—it's out now, but its mother is apparently seeking assistance and couldn't be put off—I told her you were in meetings, but she _insisted_!"

"Oh, poor foal," Lucy murmured, "But I wonder what we're needed for…"

"Well, I'm appointing you to find out, Lu," Peter nodded, "Don't use your cordial please—whatever it is, it doesn't sound serious."

"And the Tarkaans?" the young queen asked.

"It looks like you get lucky—at least for a bit."

"Now, for the other things," Peter continued, "Please tell me there's a delegation of the offended parties here to talk with us—I really don't know how two of us could leave with negotiations in progress…"

Yes, sire—even the dwarfs sent someone—on the back of a Hawk, from what I understand."

Peter looked relieved, "Good—I'll deal with the Centaurs and Fauns, Ed—you get the dwarves, and Su," he threw her a lopsided apologetic smile, "sweet girl that you are—will you hold down the fort with the Tarkaans till we get back?"

Susan's stomach flip-flopped, and she pressed her hand against it to settle the butterflies, "Oh, Peter, dear brother that you are, I do believe you might have to pay for this, but if you think I can—I will."

"Capitol!" He smiled and squeezed her shoulder, "You'll be fine, Su—just fine."

"But, I say," Lucy spoke up, "Do you suppose it's safe—I wouldn't feel safe alone around those fat, funny looking scoundrels."

"Well, I won't be alone—Onca will be there."

"Take a centaur too, Su," Edmund spoke up, "I got a kick out of watching those Tarkaans quake in their pointy little shoes yesterday, when the palace guard came to greet them."

Peter nodded, "A centaur to stand by the door and a faun to stand beside you—tell Onca that he'll have backup if things go awry."

Alright, I will." She glanced at the clock, "And, I'd better get going!"

* * *

Susan sat in a chair, waiting in the large conference room. Onca, a huge Jaguar, and Susan's personal guard, lay tensely on the carpet next to her. His eyes were clued intently on the door and his only movement was a subtle twitch of the tail, every now and again. Aiolos, hand on the pommel of a hidden knife, stood on the other side. None of them spoke.

The Tarkaans were now a half-hour late in arriving, and though Susan generally detested unexplainable tardiness, she was glad for the time to organize her thoughts.

How would she handle this meeting?

As she pondered, Swanwhite's journal entry came back to her—_I must be the person that I want to become._

Well, who do I want to become? Susan asked herself.

Her people called her the Gentle Queen, so she thought that was what Aslan meant for her to become.

But, what is being Gentle? Certainly, He didn't mean for her to be a pushover, to be stepped over and stepped on.

Then Susan thought of Edmund's new colt—King Lune had given all four of them yearlings to name and train as their own—No one in their right mind would call Ajax a pushover, yet they also called him gentle.

Maybe, she thought, being gentle is surrendering to the will of the One who leads me, and letting Him, direct me in the way I should go. Yes, that must be it—to let Him direct me, whether he wants me to speak up or stay quiet. Whether He wants me to comfort someone or fight for the rights that Narnia deserves. It must all be at His pleasure.

She had a sense that He wanted her to stand firm today—to stand up for the tetrarch, for Narnia, and, most importantly, for Him.

Suddenly, Onca's ear twitched and he rose noiselessly on his padded paws. Susan had heard nothing, but she knew that Cats hear far better than Humans. She stood up moments before Neemias opened the door.

"The Tarkaans await, your majesty."

Not as long as I have, she thought.

"Show them in," she nodded.

Four fat men, draped in robes of rich vibrant colors with tassels that drug on the carpet, and wearing caps that, yesterday, Edmund described as looking very much like miniature dunce caps, filed into the room. Upon seeing only Susan, the most senior one, Zuhr Tarkaan, stopped cold, and said in a syrupy voice.

"We didn't realize, O beautiful barbarian Queen that you four were not ready—of course, being the age that you are—as the poets say—"

Susan cut him off sternly, "My brothers and sister were called away on unexpected business, and will return shortly—you must appreciate that Narnia has undergone great change in a very short time and things do occasionally arise. However, understand this—we four together form a tetrarch—all four of us carry equal weight, and we rule together by the grace and at the pleasure of the Lion, who is above us all. I am prepared to and capable of handling these talks until they have returned."

The youngest, Nuh Tarkaan, gave a soft laugh and Susan felt her face burn with indignation, "Your tardiness—thirty minutes past the appointed time, you kept me waiting—speaks ill of you, but can be forgiven, but I cannot disregard your disrespect towards the Lion who established this world and this house—how will it be for you when my brother, the High King, writes to your Tisroc to tell him of your disrespect towards this house?"

The Tarkaans shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the Lion, and Zuhr spoke up, "O brilliant and beautiful barbarian Queen of the North, you must forgive Nuh Tarkaan's detestable behavior—he is young and untested—but I assure you that he will be taken care of once we're back in Tashbaan."

Susan wondered what he meant by that.

"Will you be seated so we can begin?"

They sat.

Susan held up the deal that the Four had agreed to and the real old agreement inked before the Winter.

"Our offer remains the same as before, and my brother, King Edmund, has found a most peculiar document—it seems that you were mistaken in your earlier assessment of the previous agreement, but I have it with me, and I'm sure that you will not make such mistakes in the future."

Susan looked at each one in turn as she spoke, just to let them know that she wouldn't be bullied into giving up Narnian rights, and her confidence grew as she watched their expressions.

"Well, O beautiful Queen," Zuhr squirmed in his seat, "you must realize that our great benevolent wise Tisroc (may he live forever) must sign off on the deal—I'm afraid that we'll need to send a message—we have ravens, of course—will that do? Perhaps we can sign it this afternoon, if he is favorable towards it."

"You do that then—we'll await word."

*~0~*

Lucy hurried down the hall towards the conference room. The little foal had been shaken up, but really not hurt, and Lucy was able to soothe both him and the mare. She would've been happier to do it if they hadn't had to leave to Susan to fend off shameless Tarkaans in an important meeting, and now she scurried to help Susan where she could.

As she half-walked half-ran down the hall, the conference door swung open and four fat Tarkaans toddled toward her on their tiny pointed shoes. They didn't look real pleased and they were grumbling something Lucy didn't quite catch. They nearly ran into her and she gave them a perplexed icy look,

"What's this?" she asked.

Startled, the Tarkaans slammed on the brakes, and Zuhr spoke, "O wise young Queen, we were just heading to our rooms to write and deliver a message to our Tisroc (may he live forever) to ask him to inform us as to how to proceed with your beautiful sister's most outrageous demands."

Lucy swept aside, "Well then, off you go."

The Tarkaans lost no time in making themselves scarce, and the moment Lucy was alone, she picked up her skirts, ran the rest of the way to the conference room, and burst through the door.

Susan, Onca, Aiolos and Neemias were huddled round the table, trying to muffle their laughter.

"What happen?" Lucy inquired.

"Oh, those silly men," Susan laughed, "I honestly wasn't trying to frighten them, but once I said that I-we-wouldn't tolerate disrespect towards Aslan or the lands He created or our house that He established, they seemed to get really nervous—I don't think they really respect us or Him yet, but at least they won't move against us, since He protects us."

Lucy giggled, with a hand over her mouth, "How'd you do it?"

"I just made it clear that we serve under Him and that we're only here to do His will—which, of course, doesn't include selling our country's rights to those that have ill intentions."


	2. Remembering You

Susan lay propped against huge ivory-colored pillows in her large royal guest bedroom with a magnificent view of the Archen countryside. But this night, she was not peering out her window, as she usually loved to do—she was to stiff and weary from riding all afternoon and her heart was heavy with worries.

Anvard was one of her favorite places outside of Narnia. King Lune and his queen, Alina, were always wonderful hosts, and even better friends. Susan honestly didn't know where the tetrarch would be without them. The Archen royals had taken their young Narnian counterparts under their wing and showed them how to run a castle, how to settle disputes, and the ins and outs of foreign negotiations. They had provided them with horses to ride and sent several ships, with crews, to help rebuild the Narnian Navy. They had lent them supportive and understanding ears when things went badly and celebrated with them in success. They had even gone to bat for them a few times, even when not doing so might have perhaps benefited them. And, of course, who could forget their sweet little cherub-faced twins, who were just about eight months old.

Susan had come to here for trade meetings—forever there seemed to be trade meetings—and these were attended by representatives from every land in the known world. In the five months that she and her siblings had ruled Narnia, this would be her first trip abroad by herself, but it wasn't supposed to have worked out that way.

Peter and Lucy had sailed, a few weeks prior, to the Lone Islands to call on the governor, as Peter had worried that they had not shown much attention to their islands. Edmund had intended to travel with Susan, but a few days before their departure, he had had to ride out, with a small force, into their western lands, to put a stop to marauders that were antagonizing the population. And so, for the past two weeks, Susan had handled the meetings on her own. It had been only yesterday that she had ridden home to take care of a few domestic issues before returning late in the evening.

Now, lying propped up under buttermilk-colored silk sheets, she should be drifting off to sleep, but her mind wouldn't allow it. At the beginning of the week Alina had fallen ill.

Her symptoms had waxed and waned throughout the week, and yesterday, she had felt well enough to beg Lune to be allowed outside. He had gentle denied the request for fear she wasn't strong enough. Susan had been reluctant to ride home—she wanted to stay near this woman who had taught both she and Lucy so much about being queen, but Alina had only laughed and told her to carry on about the business that needed attending too. By the time Susan had returned, it was late and Alina was sleeping, but she'd been told that things were still well. Still, she worried for her friend.

Finally, frustrated with simply lying helpless in bed and knowing how much she need to sleep in order to face tomorrow, Susan got out of bed and walked toward the window. A small pile of her things lay on a table that shone in the moonlight and her raven-colored hair sparkled like diamonds as she picked up Swanwhite's diary. It was not the same one she'd found in that dusty room, all those months ago—this one was bound up in cherry-red cloth with the stencil of a maple leaf on it. Then she walked softly back to bed and lit a candle. She knew reading could soothe her heart, or at least she wanted it to.

She read.

_Oh, what a hard day I've had! What a terrible day! My dear nurse has left us to go to Aslan's Country. I don't quite know how I'll go on without her. Yes, of course, my mum and dad are here for me and they are wonderful—but my dear nurse, she's the one I saw most often. She's the one who gave me my first lessons; you know—the very first lessons that you can never really forget._

_I'm glad, of course, that my dear nurse is with Aslan and that He has made her perfectly well again—it was so hard to see her struggle for breath these last few months, and I daresay, I prayed that Aslan would relieve her suffering, but I had always assumed that He would do it by making her well again, not by taking her to be with Him._

_Now what will I do? My mum and dad tell me that I must grieve for a bit and then get back to the business that fills my days. They say that it's right to be sad for a time, but that I shouldn't let her death defeat me—for certainly death has not defeated my dear nurse. And, of course, He knows best. Although, I admit, sometimes, I question Him._

_I asked them how I might be able to get on without her and they said that I can keep her alive in my memory by holding onto and doing the things that she taught me. They said that if I love her then I won't forget what she taught me, even though she's gone._

Susan quietly closed the book in her hands, laid it on the night stand next to her bed, and blew the candle out.

That was not a particularly great page to read tonight, she thought, and brushed some tears away.

Then she scrunched down under the covers, bear-hugged her pillow and, finally drifted into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Many hours later and well past midnight, Susan's troubled sleep was disturbed by a tiny knock near the bottom of her door.

"Who is it?" she asked Onca, as she hurried to throw on her robe.

"One of the young ones," the jaguar replied mildly, without rising from the rug in the middle of the room, "I can't tell which one—they smell so much alike, and I don't see them every day."

"Well they're twins, after all," Susan replied while tying her sash as she bolted to open the door.

Once she had it opened, she found herself staring down into big luminous blue eyes—the color of the deepest part of the ocean—a shaggy head of bright curls, and two cubby arms that stretched as high as Prince Cor could reach in his hope that she would pick him up.

Of course, she obliged.

"Why Cor, whatever are you doing out of your crib at this late hour—and so far from your nursery?" she asked and marveled that a boy who was only crawling could have slipped under the radar of his nurses.

There was a sudden bustle down the hall as two nursery maids flew through the door and gave a few squeals of relief to see that their little warder was safe.

"Thank you, ever so much, your majesty," the two young maids gushed, once Cor was back in their arms, "We can't lose this one, now can we? Our little saver someday."

Susan smiled lightly, "I don't believe we could lose either of them," she mused.

"Yes, you're right about that, your majesty."

"And his mother," Susan gently tested the waters of her soul to ask that question, but she knew she couldn't rest until she knew, "How does her majesty fare?"

"Ah, not well, I'm afraid, your majesty—she took a turn for the worse, just a bit ago." The maid's lower lip quivered as she explained, "His majesty is with her just now."

"Would you like us to see if his majesty might let you see her, your majesty?" The other maid asked.

"Yes," Susan replied quietly, all the air having gone out of her, leaving nothing left to speak with, "I would indeed—if I'm allowed."

She felt tears bubbling into her eyes as the maids scurried away with Cor and she followed behind.

King Lune readily agreed to allow Susan some time alone with Alina, and as the eldest Narnian queen slipped quietly through the door, she was taken aback by how much her friend's health had deteriorated since early yesterday, when she had last seen her.

Alina's normally angelic face was red and damp from her struggle to breathe, her normally soft golden locks were a stringy disheveled mess, and when she spoke her normally clear laughing voice was a hoarse shadow of itself. Her normally bright happy face was so drawn that it looked almost like a skeleton and Susan suspected that her body, hidden by thick quilts, looked much the same way. Only her eyes still clung to their happy glimmer. Susan had the wild thought that perhaps if she took away the covers her friend might find it easier to breathe.

Alina beckoned, with a frail hand, for her to come to the bedside and she spoke gently to the teary teenaged queen.

"My dear—my dear, don't cry. I have no doubt that I'll be just fine before the end of the night."

"You can't possibly recover before the night is past," Susan sniffed back tears, as she clung to Alina's hand, now only just warm enough for Susan to find life in it.

"No, no, my dear—don't you feel His presence here with us? Not to take me with Him just yet, although I'm certain it will be soon—no, He has come to comfort me during these last hours or minutes—only He knows how long. No, Susan, don't cry, my dear…"

"But how will Lucy and I—how will all four of us—get along without your advice –without your friendship and love?"

"Oh, you'll get along nicely, I suspect—you all will—come now, my dear, we all must say goodbye to someone we love sometime."

Susan bit her lip and tried to focus on being strong and Alina patted her hand, "That's better, dear."

"Is there something—anything I can do for you once-once…"

Alina patted her hand again and finished the sentence, "Once I've gone to Aslan's Country."

Susan nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Alina continued, "Well if you'd like too—but only if you want…"

"I want."

Susan instinctively moved closer and earnestly waited for her charge.

"Well, I know that you have your own country to look after and many things will arise within your life, but if you find you can manage it—will you be there for the boys? Lune and I talked it over and we want you—all four of you—to continue on as mentors and friends to our sons. Will you watch over them, Susan?"

Susan nodded eagerly, "It would consider it my greatest pleasure."

Alina smiled and something of her silvery laugh came back for just a moment.

"Now, now, you'll have many pleasures ahead of you," she teased.

"None more pleasant than honoring my dear friend by keeping my word to her."

In response, Alina closed her shimmering blue eyes and relaxed for a few minutes. Susan held her hand until she thought that perhaps she was asleep, and then rose to go out. But as she leaned down to kiss her friend farewell, Alina suddenly awoke with a horrible gurgling gasp.

Susan stood transfixed with horror for a moment as she watched her friend's struggle, then she snapped to attention and bolted for help.

"Alina! Her majesty! Get help! Where's King Lune? Where's his majesty?" Her screams grew increasingly urgent and hysterical.

Doors flew open and people began running around and running into each other in their effort to get to where they were going.

Susan shook her head, with urgent dismay, at all the mayhem and hurried to the door and down the hall. She ran with an energy fueled by fear and pain until she found King Lune and told him, with wide red-rimmed eyes and a choking voice, what was happening.

"Alina—she's—"

She didn't have time to say anything further before King Lune brushed past her and tore down the hall. Susan followed, at a run, several steps behind and watched as Lune vanished into Alina's bedroom. Then she sat down, with a heavy heart and numb mind—feeling all the energy she'd had moments before rush out of her—to await the word that she knew was coming.

* * *

The next afternoon, Susan sat, shrouded in mourning black, on a small balcony over-looking the wide flat Anvard lawn, and beyond to the numerous sun-drenched hills in the countryside, and still further beyond to the dark evergreen forests that grew in the distance.

Her mind was crammed with the details of the funeral being planned and she desperately wanted to have her siblings close by, but she didn't even know if that would be possible.

"Is there anything I can do for you, your majesty?" Onca purred softly, his green-tinted golden eyes full of sadness and understanding as he laid his strong massive head in her lap. Only his ear flickered once.

"I only wish Peter, Edmund, and Lucy were here" Susan sighed and rambled on, "They would want to be here—they ought to be here—but I don't even know if Peter and Lu are home, and, well, Ed might not be either—although it would be easier to find out about that—but it wouldn't be right to call him away if he's still with the army—but it wouldn't be right to keep this from him—from any of them—and, oh, what am I to do?"

"How might it be if I send someone to Cair to find out?" Onca inquired, "A swift bird, perhaps? They can circle around and if someone is home, they can land and tell the news—and if not, they'd fly right back."

"Well alright," Susan agreed, relived to have the beginnings of a workable plan in her head, "but tell whoever it is to fly a wide route around the castle, just in case Ed is coming back, but not quite in yet—tell whoever to keep a sharp watch out toward the west."

Onca bowed his noble head, "Consider it done, your majesty."

Then he turned and disappeared silently back into the castle and Susan returned to her silent wake.

But not for long.

King Lune suddenly appeared, his face was gray and haggard in his grief and he looked almost frail, instead of his normal jovial self. Susan rose to greet him and smiled when she saw that he had both boys wrapped in his big arms.

The twins, smiling and happy, were quite oblivious toward the tragedy going on around them and continued their game—if you could call it that—Cor would grab a fistful of Corin's blond fluff, and Corin would punch him. Then Cor would shake himself off and go for another fist-full. Lune looked relieved when Susan took the squirming Corin out of his hands and set him on her lap.

"I've sent Onca to find a bird to fly to Cair and find out if my brothers and sister have returned home—they will want to be here and they will come, if it's possible." Susan talked chiefly to make conversation, but she had no earthy clue what should be talked about at a time like this. "I hope to have word back by this evening."

Lune nodded sadly, until Cor decided to pinch his finger and Susan smiled when he gave the youngster a mock scowl.

"Alina asked," Susan wondered if she should talk of this now, "she asked me to look after these little ones."

Lune nodded vigorously, "Yes, yes, we talked about it while you were away yesterday—she knew her time here was short, and she knew that a father, much less a father who is a king, can't be everything his children need in life—that's why little ones have a father _and_ a mother, after all, isn't it? And, well, when one parent has to leave them, someone else is needed to step in and fill the void—we think you—all four of you—are the ones to do just that—perhaps, it's another reason you were brought into this world, don't you think?"

Susan said that she hoped it was, but after a few moments, a question raked across her mind, "Do you think we'll be able to do it?"

"I know you will—all of you together."

"I've not had much experience with young ones—and, "she added quietly, "my teacher has left me."

"Well, on the first bit—you're in good company, because neither have I. These rascals were our first, you know, and well, they're not even a year old yet. And the other part, ah, that's much harder, but she taught us all well, don't you think?"

"Yes," Susan responded quietly.

"Well, then the trick is to remember all that she taught us—if we do the things she taught us, then we'll carry her in our hearts, and perhaps, we can pass on what she taught us to someone else and her legacy will grow."

Susan sighed, and closed her eyes for a moment, to collect her thoughts. She dearly wanted to keep her word to Alina to watch over little Cor and Corin and make sure nothing horrible ever happened to them, and she prayed that she would be able to do just that.

* * *

**A/N **I based this chapter on 2 Tim. 1:5. It might be an odd association, but I hope that you all can see the connection.


	3. Feeling Guilty

Susan sat back in her chair and closed her eyes as Nary, her naiad lady-in-waiting unwove the yellow and chocolate cosmos flowers some dryad had woven though the eldest queen's hair during the day. It felt so relaxing to have those smooth watery fingers sliding through the silk that was her hair, and Susan needed to relax. The past month had been a sorrowful one.

As it had turned out, all her siblings had indeed been at home when the golden eagle Onca sent had arrived at the Cair and they had ridden out immediately. Susan was so thankful that they would not have to miss saying farewell to their dear friend and that the two friendly Houses could spend time together in their shared grief. She was also thankful that they were at Anvard when the next events happened. She sighed and shook her head at the memory and wondered what Aslan must be thinking to allow such strain to come to King Lune.

"Hold still, your majesty," Nary gently admonished, for she knew bits and pieces of what had transpired.

Now with her eyes closed and in the comfort of her own bedroom at Cair Paravel, Susan's mind floated back to the events that had happened. Alina's funeral cortege had been long and sorrowful, and all of Archenland seemed to line its route to say farewell to their beautiful gracious Queen and toss flowers along the road ahead of them and on the simply oak casket as it passed by. The tetrarch had ridden just behind King Lune and Susan and Lucy had been privileged to hold the young princes as they proceeded through the streets. Afterward, Lune, the twins, and the Pevensies had retired to pass several quiet days together.

But then an unexpected scandal rocked Anvard.

It was found that funds had mysteriously disappeared from the King's treasury, and Lune had asked Edmund to lead an independent investigation, as those that handled the Treasury were some of his closest confidants. Edmund discovered, relatively quickly, that Lord Bar, Lune's Lord Chancellor, was the prime suspect and the Pevensies had attended the trial, in which Edmund gave evidence. Bar was convicted of embezzlement, although they were disappointed that he never told who he had worked for. He was stripped of his titles, but in the end Lune had allowed him to stay at Anvard. Not long after that the Pevensies had returned home, where they had been for just over a week now. Susan hoped that the worst was behind her friends and they could all slowly begin to pick up their lives.

"There now, your majesty," Nary's voice bubbled like a gentle stream, "I'm all done, although you looked so happy with them woven up there, I'm almost sorry to take them out—it seems to me that you need a bit of happiness right now."

"Well, I'm sure things will start to look up now—what else could happen so soon after everything that already has? I'm certain that I'll be fine with a good night of sleep in my own bed."

"Good night, your majesty." Nary said, as she glided to the door and slipped out into the hall.

"Good night, Nary."

Susan climbed into bed and for a moment simply relished the feeling of being under the familiar lavender silk sheets. Then she lit a candle and picked up Swanwhite's dairy—the same one that she had carried to Archenland, bond in red cloth with a maple leaf stencil—and turned to the next entry. It was becoming a familiar habit.

She read.

_What a horrible day I've had! Of course, it wouldn't have been so horrible if I'd made better choices, but I can't use that for an excuse. You see diary, I made the most wretched mistake and in so doing, I broke my promise to my very dear friend—in fact, she's not just my friend, she's more than that—she's my dear nurse's only child, and I promised to look out for her after her dear mother died. Only today I didn't and because of me she lies very gravely ill. I wish I had known ahead of time that those berries were poisonous, and quite honestly, I really feel that I should have known._

_My dear daddy tells me that it wasn't my fault that she ate them. He even tells me that it wasn't my fault for not knowing those berries were poisonous, but I really don't think I can believe him this time._

_I wish there was more that I could do right now, but there isn't, so I suppose all I can do is wait to see if Aslan will restore her to me, but oh, how hard it is to wait on Him sometimes!_

* * *

The next day, Susan was in her office, writing out various orders for things the palace staff needed to buy or order—getting back to business after a month and a half away wasn't easy—when she heard a thunder of running feet come down the hall and her door burst open. She half expected to see a Centaur standing before her, what with all the racket that was made in the hall, but she found only her younger sister. Lucy was pale and panting, and her golden braid was askew from her run. She made wild gestures for Susan to follow her, since she had no breath to speak just yet.

"Good gracious, Lucy! If we're not under siege than you really ought to sit down and catch your breath before you talk."

"Can't." The younger queen finally managed some hoarse words while furiously shaking her head, "Something dreadful—where's Edmund? Peter said—he looked white as death—he wouldn't say until—"

Susan was on her feet now, and her eyes were wide with alarm. "_Who's_ white as death? _Peter_?"

Lucy nodded, "Where's Edmund?"

"Where's _Peter_?" Susan retorted.

The Throne Room—with Lord Orb."

"Ed's in his study."

Lucy was gone the next moment, running like a cyclone again, and Susan, now in distress, picked up her skirts and dashed toward the Throne Room. She stormed through the huge double doors that led from the tetrarch's office wing into the Throne Room, the same doors they entered through when they held court, and was greeted by grave looks from both her elder brother, sitting on his throne, and Lune's ambassador and their good friend, who was standing before him. It seemed as though both the older man and the teenaged king had aged a hundred years since she'd seem them that morning.

"_Peter_ what in the world happened?"

Her brother held up his hand and said in a short voice, "Not till Edmund and Lucy get here."

Susan looked to Lord Orb, but his gaze fell to the floor and he didn't speak, it would be Peter delivering whatever the news was, although, she thought she saw the glimmer of tears in the older man's eyes.

Her heart beat quicken a bit._ What in the world happened?_ She was becoming almost desperate to know.

Suddenly the doors that Susan had just stormed through were thrown open and Lucy followed by Edmund sailed through and came to a screeching halt in front of the little group that was already there.

The three younger siblings talked all at once.

"What in this _world_? Lucy came in my study like a whirlwind—"

"Okay, Peter—I got them—you'd better tell—"

"_Now_ will you tell us?"

Peter held up a hand and their voices were silenced.

"It seems," Peter's voice was grave and hoarse when he spoke after a minute of quiet to collect himself, "that Prince Cor has been abducted."

He looked at each sibling in the eye, hoping perhaps, to give them some of his strength, even though he didn't really think that he had any. The younger royals stood transfixed, as if they were all waiting for him to say that it was all a joke and that gave him a chance to continue uninterrupted.

"It seems to have happened not long after we left," He began listing the details as if he were reading a list, "He was taken by sea—Lord Bar—King Lune gave chase as soon as he could—they retook Bar's ship. Bar was killed. Cor was not found. A life boat was missing—they searched the waters, but never found even a trace. They arrived back at Anvard just a few days ago."

Susan didn't really trust herself to speak; all she felt was the rocks that hit the bottom of her stomach as the details hit her like the blows from an enemy's sword. All she thought of was her promise to Alina—to watch over the youngsters—smashed into a trillion pieces. She'd failed her friend!

"Where did they catch up with Bar's ship?" Edmund asked, and if she'd thought about it, Susan would have been impressed with his particularly cool-headed question.

"Off the southern tip of Calormen, your majesty," Lord Orb answered.

"The Tisroc." Lucy whispered, her voice was as soft as a breath of air.

"It looks like that's a possibility, your majesty—I can't imagine why Bar would act alone."

"But do you really suppose the Tisroc would do _that_?" Lucy asked, "Why in the world would he—I mean, of course, neither of our countries are best buddies with Calormen, but to _abduct_ a Crown Prince? That's _crazy_!"

"I afraid the Tisrocs of the past have done crazy things, your majesty," Lord Orb gently told her, "Of course, I'm sure he will deny it on his deathbed and possibly beyond, and, unfortunately, we have no proof—Bar is dead—and Cor is gone."

Susan hadn't spoken during all of this exchange, and she couldn't seem to make her brain work, but the words 'Cor is gone' broke her trance and she spun around and ran from the room. Peter rose from his throne to go after her, but Lucy clutched his arm.

"Don't—I'll go. You boys stay here and figure out what needs to be done. Susan is not herself right now."

And with that, Lucy spun on her heels and hurried after her sister.

When she reach the wing of the castle where their four bedrooms were, Lucy found Nary standing outside Susan's room. The Naiad had tears running paths down her already watery-looking face. Onca was there too, with his ears pinned back in dismay as he paced the hallway.

"Oh good, I was hoping it would be you that came," Nary looked relieved, "Something dreadful must have happened—it isn't like her majesty to be in such a state."

"Prince Cor was abducted," Lucy volunteered dryly before, slipping through the door to find Susan stretched out on her bed, her raven hair spilling around her, as she sobbed into her pillow.

Lucy climbed onto the bed without invitation and sat, collecting her thoughts, for what seemed like a long time before Susan spoke.

"I failed her," she moaned, "I told Alina that I'd watch out for those boys and I didn't."

"Well, I don't know about that." Lucy gently countered.

"What more proof do you need? He got _abducted_!"

"Well, I don't know, it's just…"

"Just _what_?"

"Well, I might not be as eloquent at these explanations as Edmund seems to be, but maybe we're thinking about it the wrong way."

"And what _other_ way is there?"

"Well, do you remember our coronation? And Aslan told us to follow Him—no matter how crooked and narrow the path is, no matter how dark the days and nights are—He told us to follow Him and if we did, He would make fools of our wisest opponents, He would make our most terrible foes cower in the shadows, and He would break the backs of our strongest enemies."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"Well, everything, I think—and if you'd just think about it, you'd see."

Lucy continued, "Lord Bar—and whoever he's working for—must have thought they were pretty smart to abduct the child who is suppose to save Archenland from the greatest threat it will ever face, but I don't think prophecies can be turned on and off depending on the situation—so really what they did just might turn out to be pretty stupid. I'm sure Aslan is working behind the scenes and doing things that we may never know about, and Cor's abduction is just a dark part in the path that we have to walk down, but we know that He's walking ahead of us—and well, I don't hardly know if I'm making any sense."

She finished by scrubbing away the tears that were spilling down her face.

"Makes good sense to me; what do you think, Pete?" Edmund's voice came from the doorway, and Lucy whirled around to see their brothers standing there with serious, if not somewhat sheepish looks on their faces.

"How long have you been standing there?" she demanded.

"Long enough to know that you think I'm more eloquent than you." Edmund shot back with a smile.

Lucy crossed her arms and almost rolled her eyes but Peter held up his hand, and said, "If we could please get to the business at hand here—Lord Orb gave us letters from King Lune—one for each of us—and we came up to give you girls yours."

He stepped through the doorway, meeting Lucy halfway with her letter, then moved to sit beside Susan, who was still face down on her bed.

"You ought to get up and read your letter, Su," he counseled gently, as only he, her older brother could ever do.

He continued, "We've all looked to King Lune—and, of course, Alina—for advice and friendship, ever since we met them, and I suspect that this letter won't be any different, so I think you should read it."

"Come on, Su," he put an arm under her shoulder and hauled her upright, "You're not yourself right now, but you will be again someday—soon, I hope—and what Lucy said is true. We don't know what Aslan has planned for us—or Cor—but we do have Narnia, and King Lune, and Corin—all of them need us—perhaps more than ever now. And, well," he handed her the letter, "please read it soon."

Susan took it numbly, staring at it as if she couldn't really comprehend what it was.

"You'll read it, won't you?" Peter asked.

She nodded.

"Good."

He kissed her cheek and gave her a squeeze before getting up to join the others in the hallway.

Susan continued to stare numbly at the folded paper with her name, written in Lune's beautiful script, and his royal seal marking it. She could hardly imagine what he'd written—this day had been so unbelievable already. Finally, she unfolded it and read.

_My Dear Susan,_

_I dearly hope Lord Orb can give this to you before you've climbed aboard your filly and ridden all the way here, although I daresay, he might have meet his match to try and stop you!_

_I write to you with all seriousness to say, don't come to visit us just now chiefly for the sake of comforting my house—for we will be fine and you have your own duties to look after—or out of some mislead notion that you failed to keep your promise to Alina—for you have not._

_I have come to believe that our first reactions to these latest events are merely a case of us Humans misunderstanding what the Lion has in store for us and Cor. If we did understand then we would not find cause to be the least bit surprised at all that has happened. As it is, rather than worry about Cor's fate for years and years and perhaps our whole lives, shall we not commend him to the care of the One who knows his fate—the One whose paws are bigger than all our hands, the One whose eyes see furthest though time and deeper than any soul, the One whose ears are attuned to the squeaks of the tiniest mouse, and the One whose roar is so mighty that the Witch herself fled from it. How will it be, my dear, if we leave Cor to Him, and carry on about our lives until that joyous day when my boy is returned to us—whether in this world or the next._

_Your friend,_

_Lune_

Susan brushed aside a few more tears, smiled down at King Lune's letter—a few of the words now smeared by the tears that had slipped though her hands as she read—and almost giggled. It was so much the same thing that Lucy had talked about, and, of course, they were both right. Cor was beyond _their_ help for now, but what assistance could they hope to muster that would be better than the protection the Lion would give him anyway? She took a few deep breaths to let her real self come back to her, and then she went out to find her siblings.

* * *

**A/N** This one comes to you courtesy of Rom. 1:22 and 1 Cor. 1:25-27, 2:9.

Isn't it interesting how both Cor and Corin can be found in Corinthians? I just thought I'd mention that.

And, yes Psyche, I thought of you when I dreamed up Lord Orb. I thought you'd get a kick out of it. Orb would make a fantastic noble, wouldn't he? He kind of is already anyway.


	4. Watch Out

Susan climbed into bed after yet another late night of revelry. She anticipated yet another early rise in the morning, yet she didn't think she'd be able to muster much sleep tonight—she was simply too excited!

The reason for her excitement was that tomorrow a week-long celebration marking the end of the tetrarch's first year in Narnia would culminate with a grand tournament. Every land in the known world had sent a delegation to participate in the fun, and everyone but the Calormenes had come to spend the entire week with the tetrarch and there had been hunts every day and feasts every night. The Pevensies were being run nearly off their feet with the burdens that such a large gathering demanded, but it was all good fun, so none of them minded in the slightest. In fact, Cair Paravel had become a place where laughter and gaiety were never in short supply.

The fact that the Tarkaans wouldn't be around till just before the games began didn't bother the tetrarch. They had long since learned that most of the other nations didn't regard Calormenes with much esteem, and, of course, the Pevensies themselves didn't care for the pompous men the Tisroc sent to events like this. Yes, they were excellent at their crafts and many times they won whatever events they entered, but they also had an unrelenting habit of telling others about how good they were and they often spoke at length about how the virtues and beauty of the Tarkheenas surpassed those of ladies from other lands, and they often went on and on about how Tashbaan sparkled like the sun itself when the morning's rays hit its bejeweled buildings.

Now, Susan shivered with excitement in anticipation of what was to come, and only wondered briefly at which of the pompous Tarkaans might show up tomorrow. Then, by habitual reflex, she lit a candle and flipped Swanwhite's diary—this one was bond in burgundy cloth with a silver orchid sewn into it—to the next entry.

She read.

_What an interesting day it has been, and, of course, I anticipate having many more days of this nature, although, I must say, I'm not at all keen to have an exact repeat of what happened today!_

_But, first things first, the day began with Tarkaan Arda , the Tisroc's first cousin, showing up and asking my daddy for permission to court me. I wasn't really surprised that he allowed it, of course—I am growing up after all, and my parents and none too few court members have told me quite a bit about the courting process and what qualities that I should look for in the man who will be king of Narnia someday._

_When he came to greet me and my daddy, Arda was so respectful and polite, and afterward when we strolled in the garden he said some very sweet things to me. He told me that I am very beautiful, and I hope that's true, because that would mean that I'm on my way to becoming who Aslan wants me to be, although, I have a suspicion that Arda didn't notice my insides before he told me I was beautiful._

_You know why I suspect that? Well, see, after we strolled in the garden and had a little picnic lunch, I was called away to have a few lessons and Arda said he was going to wait for me in the rooms we've provided for him and his delegation, only when I came back, I found him outside harassing a poor Talking foal. I was appalled! Of course, I know no Talking Beasts live in Calormen, but surely he knows how to behave when he visits other lands!_

_I'm quite sure that he wouldn't have done something so foolish if he'd known I was there, but I'm also glad that I discovered his true nature by watching from out of sight. That's one thing that my mother told me to watch out for—she said that if a man behaves one way when he is standing in front of me and then in another way when he doesn't know I'm watching, then he's not at all the type of man that I should want helping me to guide Narnia forward. I'm so glad that my parents taught me to be alert and observant when it comes to choosing the man I will marry, although, I do wonder if it could be possible for Arda to change his ways someday._

Susan closed the diary; she felt a bit more sober after reading it, and her practical brain told her that she needed to sleep; after all, she wanted to be at her most capable when the games began in the morning. So despite her still dancing heart, she tucked herself under her covers and soon found herself asleep.

* * *

It was mid-morning, the next day, and Susan found herself waiting to take her turn practicing for the archery competition. The Cair's wide lawn was positively packed with people, their horses, armor and weapons, and tents of seemingly every color. And, of course, and there were more than a few Talking Beast roaming about. Onca himself sat beside her, keeping a sharp eye on the crowds that moved to and fro.

The clang of swords drew Susan's attention to where her two brothers, King Lune, and Lord Dar were getting in a bit of practice before their competition. It seemed to her that they were ribbing each other more than practicing, although, when they did spar, their swords seemed to twinkle in the sunlight. The sight of King Lune made her quickly turned back to where the Narnians had set up their tents and she watched Lucy cuddling a sleepy-looking one year old Corin, just inside the tent flaps, and out of the sun. Lucy's lips were moving and Susan suspected that she was singing a lullaby to the young one in her arms. For his part, and despite of how sleepy he looked, Corin still wanted to play with the end of her long golden braid. Lucy continually, pressed his hands away, but Susan could tell that she was struggling not to laugh.

Susan turned back to see how many more people and Beasts were waiting ahead of her—Lucy would probably like to get in a few practice throws before the dagger-throwing competition, she thought, as she looked forward to holding little Corin.

"Good morning, O Queen of most exquisite beauty," the voice behind came from a Calormene, and she groaned inwardly. But when she whirled to face the speaker, she found herself standing before a man who actually looked very dashing—dressed in clothes that were of finer quality than other Tarkaans she'd seen, he seemed to exude confidence and Susan couldn't help but be drawn to that.

He took the hand she offered and kissed it with somewhat of a flourish, which made Susan blush, but she did just manage to suppress the giggle rising in her throat. He smiled as if he knew that she was struggling not to laugh. He held her hand a bit longer than was necessary and Onca, with his cold Cat eyes, finally stood up. The man gave the Jaguar a confident smile, but released the Queen's hand.

He continued speaking, "You must forgive our tardiness to your celebrations, O most beautiful of all queens. It is quite worthy to mark such an occasion as grandly as you have, but unfortunately, my father was forced to detain us to put a stop to some marauding in the streets of Tashbaan. Of course, I'm sure that if he had been properly informed of your great beauty, he would have not delayed us for so long—do you know what the poets say about this matter, O gracious and wise, Queen?"

Susan was very flattered by his manners and speech. Everyone always treated her very respectfully—she was a Queen, of course—but no one ever stared at her as if she was their whole world, as this man did now.

"No, I'm afraid I don't run into Calormen poetry very much," Susan said, a little shyly, while not completely forgetting that she didn't even like Calormen poetry, "But, I have my own question for you?"

"Yes, my gorgeous Queen?"

Onca's soft snarl came immediately to Susan's ears, but the man before her didn't seem to notice it.

"You said your father needed you and the other Tarkaans to put down marauding in Tashbaan, but the Tisroc himself handles matters in that city—who are you?"

The man smiled, his teeth flashing brilliantly in the sun, "I am, O queen, whose beauty even now surpasses that of all others, Prince Rabadash. I am the eldest son and heir of the great, wise, noble, benevolent Tisroc—may he live forever—"

Oh! The Tiscroc's eldest son and heir! Susan heart fluttered just a bit. Was it possible that this man, who undoubtedly held more sway than the ordinary Tarkaans, would be more reasonable than those arrogant men they'd dealt with over the past year? Surely a man who was _this_ polite and _this_ dashing would be more receptive to the tetrarch's point of view.

Lord Darrin voice spoke from behind her, "Your majesty—it's your turn."

Susan, so distracted by Rabadash, jumped at Darrin's voice, "Oh, oh—thank-you, Lord Darrin."

"No trouble, at all, your majesty—I'm sorry that I startled you!" Then he gave Rabadash a hard look before telling Susan, "I know how much you'd like to get back to _our_ Prince."

Rabadash only cocked his brow as Susan took aim and let fly with her first shot. A perfect bulls-eye.

* * *

A little while later, Susan arrived back at where the Narnian tents were set up. Corin was asleep in Lucy's arms while the younger queen looked around, with keen interest, at all the goings-on.

"Did you know that the Tisroc sent his eldest son to lead the Calormen delegation?" Susan asked.

Lucy gave her sister a skeptically surprised look, "Oh? Did you meet him? What do you make of him? What's his name?" She dropped her voice to a whisper, "Is he any better than the Tarkaans we've met?"

"Prince Rabadash. He's very handsome—and very sure of himself." Susan said, but blushed as she spoke.

Lucy clamped a hand over her mouth to avoid waking Corin when she burst out laughing, but holding her mirth in only made her body shake with glee, and he woke up crying anyway.

"Now look what you made me do!" she said through her giggles.

"_I_ didn't make you do anything," Susan retorted, but held out her hands with a smirk, "and if you're only going to wake the poor lad from his nap, than you'd better hand him over."

Lucy's eyes got bigger and she snuggled Corin closer to her, "Not this one—surely you mean another." She looked around as if searching for someone else.

Susan giggled. "Hand him over, Lu," she ordered with mock sternness, "Besides, you'll probably want to get a few throws in before your competition."

"Oh, phoo." Lucy scowled, still hugging the wide awake Corin to her.

"Come on, hand him over."

Lucy reluctantly complied, and then began looping her belt, holding her dagger and cordial, around her slim waist.

"So what did this Prince Rabadash and you talk about?" she asked.

"Oh, not much of anything—it was my turn to shoot before we really got to talking. I think he was about to recite some poetry when I got called away though."

That set off another round of giggles. "Susan, you don't even like Calormen poetry!" Lucy managed to say, as she laughed.

Susan herself chuckled at that. "You're right, of course—I don't know, Prince Rabadash just seemed very charming, that's all."

Lucy made a face as she headed out of the tent, "Ugh, that's probably because you haven't turned your back on him yet."

Then she paused and, dagger in hand, struck a pose, "You know, I kind of think that I'm going to win today, so why shouldn't they just give me the prize?"

"Oh, now, _who's_ talking like a Tarkaan?" Susan teased, "Come on, Lu, you wouldn't have nearly as much fun if they just handed you the prize. You've got to beat the best in order to be the best."

Lucy sigh, "Oh well, I suppose you're right—come on, Concolor." She said to an enormous Cougar, her personal guard, who was waiting beside her and together they headed out. Susan settled onto a blanket with Corin.

A little while later, Susan was startled out of her doze by some barrels that fell near where the Terebinthian delegation's tents were set up. She moved outside to watch, with a sparkle in her eyes, as several Lords scrambled around to clean things up and another scrambled to catch up to a wayward horse. After the excitement died down, she sighed and looked down at Corin, who had a fist full of her raven hair clutched in his hand. She moved back into the tent and resettled on the blankets, hoping that he'd fall asleep again. But, when a bit of breeze caught the tent flap, she thought she spied Prince Rabadash, and curious, she scooted, as quietly as possible with a young one in her arms, to the entrance to watch him.

"What do you make of the competition for the dagger throw?" he asked one of the Tarkaans.

"Negligible—as usual," The Tarkaan scoffed. Then he shifted uneasily, "The little Narnian Queen—she's a _mere child_, but she has skills that surpass most any other adult I've ever seen. I would consider _her_ to be my most dangerous threat—_child_ though she is."

Susan felt a smug since of satisfaction that a Tarkaan would actually praise her sister's skill, but then she felt a twinge on indignation mixed with pride at Rabadash's next words.

"Yes, the older girl, beautiful though she might be, is no slouch with the bow. It will be necessary to watch out for _her_ as well. I don't want to be shamed by mere _children_ at these games. It is such a shame that these northern lands do not teach their women to do as our beautiful Tarkheenas do. But, tell me, where are the others—we must find out how much skill the Narnian kings have with their swords."

"Yes, if they're as good as their sisters," the Tarkaan grumbled, but stopped when he saw the look in Rabadash's eyes.

"_We_ will win today," the Prince snarled, "No northern _children_ will bring shame on me!" Rabadash turned and stormed away, but screamed over his shoulder, _"Find the others! Find them! After I get finished with—"_

Hearing Rabadash's screams, Prince Corin woke up crying, and Susan quickly withdrew into the tent. She missed the rest of what he said, but she didn't really mind. Suddenly Rabadash didn't seem all that charming.

"Why the long face, Su?" Edmund questioned, as he had just entered from the backside of the tent, "You look like you lost something, but I see Corin, so that can't be it."

Susan jumped at the sound of his voice, but quickly recovered.

"Oh, it's nothing—just something silly," she shook her head, embarrassed that she'd gotten caught up in a silly crush on a man she'd only briefly met.

"Oh, yes, _that_ makes sense—oh, come on! Tell me—I need a good laugh over something silly—the competition is tough!"

"It should be—that's what we expected." Susan countered, while ignoring his request for information.

Edmund gave her a knowing smile, "I saw Lucy throwing—she was spectacular, of course—and she told me that you'd talked to some Calormene prince—Rab-uh-Rab…"

"Rabadash," Susan volunteered, while turning a little pink that Edmund would know.

Edmund smiled—he was getting pretty good at pushing the right buttons, and said,"Yes, well, she didn't have time to tell me much about the conversation…"

Susan's face turned pink again, "Edmund!"

"Yes?" he countered innocently.

Suddenly, Peter dashed into the tent, "Come on, you two—Lucy's waiting for us over by the jousting lists—King Lune against a Calormene Prince—can't remember his name—Rab-something. They're just getting ready now."

"Rab-uh—"Edmund tried to volunteer, "Susan knows it."

"It's Prince Rabadash—you guys go ahead, it's too hot out for Corin."

"No—we all have to go," Peter said as he took hold of her elbow, and pushed her outside, "Come on, we'll have to hurry! Corin will want to watch his father beat up on Raba—something."

"It's Prince Rabadash, Peter, and Corin won't remember a thing about this tournament tomorrow—he's barely a year old."

"You know, Lucy told me Susan got to chat with Prince Radishbad while she was waiting to shoot some practice shots."

"It's Prince _Rabadash_, Ed," Susan growled, while trying not to roll her eyes. Honestly, she was beginning to suspect that he was doing that to tease her—in which case, Lucy probably told him more than he was letting on.

Of course, _she_ hadn't told any of them about what she'd seem just before the boys arrived.

"So…?" Peter said as he looked at one and then the other with a rather amused look on his face, "What's this fellow like anyway?"

"I'll tell you more once Lu is with us," Susan said to put them off, "I had another encounter with him after Lucy left to practice, and well, I want her to hear about that too."

"Well, I hope it doesn't take too long—Prince Rabaradish—or whatever—and I are dueling in the finals after Lune gets done with him."

"It's _Rabadash_! Honestly, you two boys are—"

"Well, _there_ you guys are," Lucy squealed with delight, as she came running up, "and, oh good, you brought Corin!" Then pulling the boys forward, she added, "Come on, we'll be late and miss it if we don't hurry!"

"Wait a minute, Lu," Peter pulled back, "Su wants to tell us something about Raba-Raba-uh—let's go watch from the shade of that oak tree. It'll take them a minute or two to start anyway."

"Oh, I know all about him." Lucy smirked.

"No, you don't—I have something _new_ to say, and besides, the shade will be better for Corin. And it's _Rabadash_, for the _millionth_ time, _Peter_!"

The four of them quickly scurried to the shade provided by the oak's big leafy branches. Lucy and Edmund had sappy smirks plastered to their faces and Peter kept weaving between amused looks at his two youngest siblings and expectant curiosity toward Susan.

"I feel so out of the loop," he muttered.

"Well, see," Susan began with some mild embarrassment, but she figured that it was better to be embarrassed now, and avoid any trouble with Rabadash later, so she continued, "Well, a little while after Lu left, I saw Prince Rabadash talking with one of his Tarkaans—he wasn't at all charming like he was when he was talking to me—"

Edmund and Lucy nearly had to sit down, due to the giggles that they managed to muffle with their hands over their mouths. Peter looked a little astounded and didn't speak for a full minute. When he did, his voice gave away his bemusement. "Wait a minute, you thought Prince Raba uh—Rab—whatever was _charming_?"

Susan turned red as a beet and hissed, "Yes, I did, Peter, but for goodness sake, don't advertize it to the whole company—I've changed my mind, and I'd like to tell you all why."

She continued, "You might say that he showed his true colors when he was talking with his Tarkaan. They talked about, well, they talked like any of the other pompous Tarkaans we've met so far—I'm, well, I guess I'm disappointed—he was so—and now he's… And I thought maybe…and now… Well, he was so polite and charming when he talked with me face to face and I thought that perhaps we'd found a Calormene who would be reasonable and understanding and when he was talking to his Tarkaan, he was only interested in winning the tournament and bringing honor and glory to himself—he was so selfish—like the other Tarkaans, and well, I'm a little embarrassed that I let him charm me into not seeing him for who he really is."

Edmund and Lucy finally sobered up when they understood that Susan's pride had been hurt.

"Well," Peter finally spoke after a minute, but he weighed his words carefully, "At least you saw his true nature before something happened—but I'm curious—what exactly did he and his Tarkaan talk about?"

"Oh," Susan started giggling hysterically, "They were talking about _us_, of all things! The Tarkaan was really impressed with your throwing skill, Lucy."

Lucy beamed.

"And Prince Rabadash," Susan continued, "thought I had great skill with my bow. They considered the four of us to be their greatest threat to winning honor and glory, even though, in their words, we are _mere_ _children_, but they didn't know about you boys yet—apparently, they hadn't talked to the Tarkaans who were scouting you boys out—they wanted to know if you were any good."

"Oh great," Peter muttered, "now if I lose, he'll probably rub my nose in it for all time, and our foreign policy will be run aground and all sorts of horrible things will happen—"

"Oh, put a sock in it, Pete!" Edmund laughed.

At that point, a trumpet signaled that the jousting final was about to begin. Lune and Rabadash mounted their horses and entered the lists from opposite sides, and the Pevensies turned to watch. But as she watched, the tall arrogant Prince on his fine stallion, Susan remembered the last line of Swanwhite's diary entry and wondered if it was really possible for Rabadash to change his tune.

* * *

**A/N** This chapter comes to you courtesy of Prov.7:6. I think the association is a bit odd, and if you want to know why I think that, you can PM me. Of course, I thought it worked well enough to use it. You really should read all of Prov. 7 for proper context.

**A/N** I'm awfully sorry about the delay in getting this chapter up. This was not one of those breaks that I mentioned in the summery (that are to be used when I fancy to start another story every now and again), but this was simply real life pulling me away. Expect that to continue though. I'm afraid updates will continue to be slow and I'm sorry about that. I hope it doesn't put you fine reader/reviewers off!


	5. Busy, Busy

Susan climbed into bed after another long day. She was sore from riding and peeved about an argument she'd had with her siblings that had lasted for several weeks. She knew, deep down, that they were right—she was keeping herself far too busy and spreading herself far too thin—but she wasn't quite ready to admit it yet. After all, she had a good reason to keep busy; it would soon be the first anniversary of Alina's death and then just a month later, the first anniversary of Cor's abduction. Susan thought that if she kept herself busy enough, the time would pass quickly and she'd be spared a whole lot of pain. She could always make it up to everyone later.

As she lay in bed, her mind, as it had for some time now, floated to thoughts of Aslan. She pushed those thoughts away; she knew He was disappointed with her current attitude, and she didn't want to face Him, so she hadn't said her nightly prayers in quite a while. After, these two anniversaries, she thought, I'll make it up to Him too.

But sleep would not come. Aslan, her brothers and sister, Cor, Alina, they all barraged her thoughts. She stared at her ceiling for a while, wondering how she could get to sleep and be ready for another busy day tomorrow. Then another image floated into her mind's eye—a young woman staring at her reflection in a pool—oh, of course, the diary! She hadn't read it tonight. Swanwhite's diary always helped her when she was down.

She picked it up off her night stand—this one was bound in jade green cloth with a delicate-looking golden butterfly resting on a blade of golden grass sewn into it—and flipped it eagerly to the right page.

_Oh, I've been so busy these last few weeks that I've neglected you, my dear diary. But, please understand that I had a very good reason: my dearest daddy has been very ill and we're all preparing for his departure to Aslan's Country, and then for me to become Queen. I must say, even though I've been preparing to be Queen all my life, it's never quite hit me that my dear daddy has to leave me in order for that to happen—did you know that when I was a little girl I used to fancy him giving me advice while I held court? Of course, that seems foolish now, but, I still wish that it could happen._

_Well, no one will accuse me of not doing my part! I've been run nearly ragged trying to do all that's expected of me. Some people have told me to slow down a bit, but how can I? My ascension to Narnia's throne is imminent and I need to prepare!_

_But, something happened today that changed my mind. I almost hate to admit it, but I dozed off while reading some reports—apparently, I was more tired than I cared to admit. Anyway, Aslan came to me in my dream and asked me if He was invited to my coronation. I was, naturally, quite surprised, and said that, of course, He was! Then I asked Him why He would ever think that He was not invited, even though, I know… I have been so very busy lately that I haven't talked to Him much. He told me that He likes to be invited to the celebrations that we Humans put on and He would better know that He's invited, if I were actively talking to Him._

_He went on to tell me that my coronation is just a ceremony and that during my reign as Queen there will be many many times that I will be far busier with much more important things and that He wants to guide me though those times, but He can only do that if I let Him. He said that it's better to get into the habit of talking to Him daily, so that in the heat of a hard moment, I will more naturally desire His advice. He went on to say that only He can be in every place at every moment and that He didn't create Humans and Beasts to be like Him. I felt a little silly when I woke up, but I know that it was what I needed to hear, and I resolved right then to start including Him in every part of my life, no matter how small the adventure and no matter how busy I get._

Susan stared at the pages for a few minutes. This entry bothered her heart. A tiny voice, barely audible, said that she needed to take heed of these words. Instead, she closed the diary and laid it aside, while wiping away a stray tear.

* * *

"Won't you at least take time for breakfast with us, Su?" Peter pleaded, as Susan stuffed a few last things into her knapsack, and headed towards a door that would take her to the stables, "I mean, I know things have been hard between us the last few weeks, but we always take breakfast together when it's possible—"

"But it's not possible today, Peter," Susan voice was clipped with irritation, "I've got to get over to Dancing Lawn to help the dwarves—"

"But surely—"Peter pleaded to deaf ears.

"No!"

Edmund and Lucy only sat and watched in silence and sadness. Peter was always best at handling Susan during these times, and if he couldn't persuade her to stay, then there was little hope that they would be able too. Peter flopped back onto the bench and savagely speared his ham and eggs.

"I was under the impression that dwarves slept late." Edmund grumbled sadly.

"Shut up, Ed!" Peter growled with irritation, then after several moments, he laid his fork down and apologized, "I'm sorry, Ed—really I –well, we all know she's upset about these two anniversaries that are coming up—"

"Aren't we all," Lucy cut in, "There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't thought of dear little Cor—and Alina," Lucy shook her head and scrubbed away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks, "I miss them so much."

Peter gave her a comforting hug, "I know, Lu—we all miss them and worry about Cor."

"I miss _Susan_ too," Edmund grumbled, "the _real_ Susan."

Peter sighed, and said, "I know, but I don't suppose there's anything for us to do but wait her out—she'll be back—she got through it last year, didn't she?"

"And what are you planning to do for next year's anniversary?"

"I don't know, Ed." Peter shrugged helplessly, "Maybe she'll get better with more time—everyone heals differently, you know."

The three siblings returned to eating their breakfast, lost in their own thoughts. No one could think of anything more to say.

*~0~*

Susan trotted her big blue roan filly, Celeste, at a quick clip down a moss covered path, before turning her off toward wide sunny flower-covered hills. She gently urged the filly to increase her speed and soon Susan felt as if she were flying—her raven hair billowing out behind her. She sped along, happy to have something to do and away from the guilt that she often felt when she was around her siblings.

She sped along passed a sparkling crystal-blue pool, where a lion was stooped to lap the water. That's quite a large lion, Susan thought. Wait! She pulled the reins back sharply, checking Celeste's speed—that's was not just any lion—that was the Lion!

Susan's pulse quickened as she stared at Him, in the same way a child's heart quickens when they're confronted with a wrong they've done by someone that they love very much and are loathed to disappoint. She turned Celeste toward Him and filly walked forward slowly, as if she could feel her mistress's pain. Susan dismounted and walked stiffly toward Him; she longed to throw her arms around Him and sob her troubles into His great golden mane, but she held back.

"Hello, beloved," His deep voice made the ground vibrate under her feet, "Do you have a moment to sit with me by these quiet waters, or must you hurry on about your errands?"

Susan looked down at the ground, thinking that He was scolding her for not having breakfast with her brothers and sister, or for skipping her nightly prayers, or for anything else that she'd been doing that she knew would disappoint Him.

"I have time to sit with you, Aslan," she said quietly.

"Good."

He settled Himself on the grass with His enormous paws positioned for her to sit between them. Susan hesitated for only a moment before diving into His embrace. She knew, deep down, that He was all she ever _really_ needed.

"Have you enjoyed reading Swanwhite's diary, beloved?"

"Yes, very much so."

"I thought you would—you and she have shared similar burdens—and joys—and you will continue too. I thought of you many times as I watched her grow up and learn about life."

Susan was vaguely aware that Narnian Time flowed differently than Greenwich Mean Time, but it had been a very long time since she'd thought about it.

"How old was I when Swanwhite ruled?" she asked.

"That's not important." The Lion answered.

Then Susan felt the urge to ask Him a question that was important to her.

"Where Cor?" Will we ever see him again?"

"That is his story, beloved—I cannot tell you any story but your own."

"But—"

"You must trust me, beloved. There are things at work that you must only trust me with—like you had to do when you and Lucy sat beside me when I lay dead on the Stone Table—you trusted me then, and you know me far better today. Will you trust me again, beloved?"

"I want to try."

He waited, knowing that she had more on her heart.

"It's just that I miss Alina and Cor so much—I know that Alina is with you and that I'll see her again one day, but dear little Cor—I can _feel_ that he's still in this world, and if only I knew where—"

"But, child, I told you that there are things at work in which you do not know."

"And I have to trust you, don't I? I have to trust that you'll keep Cor safe and that you'll keep him warm and fed—and I have to trust that if he does go without safety or warmth or food, that you're still with him and that nothing will happen to him that you have not allowed and that the things you _do_ allow are for his own good, and perhaps, one day, he will bring good to others by having gone though his trials." Susan's voice was rambling by the time she was finished and she looked up at Aslan with tear-filled eyes for His reassurance.

"Yes," He answered quietly. His voice was as soft as a puff of air on her cheek, but warmer and more comforting than a roaring fire at Cair Paravel in the midst of a snowstorm.

"Why is it so hard, Aslan? Why is it so hard to trust you at times? Surely it's not because I don't know you or because I haven't watched you do things more amazing and more wonderful than I could possibly describe—yet still when it comes to _this_—protecting Cor—to loving him—I hesitate—I only want to _know_."

"Beloved, do you remember Swanwhite writing about when I told her that I did not create Humans and Beasts to be every place at every moment?"

"Yes, of course. I read that entry just last night."

"Well, I will add something to that now—I did not create you Humans or Beasts to _know_ everything either—but there is something that I have given you the privilege of knowing—"

"What?" Susan was suddenly so eager that she interrupted, "Oh, I'm sorry, Aslan."

The Lion's laughter reverberated like underground thunder, and He said, "I have given you Humans and Beasts the privilege of knowing Myself."

Susan's eyes widened with a mixture of astonishment and realization as Aslan continued to talk.

"I've let you bear witness to a land, once encrusted with Winter and death and pain, come alive with Spring and warmth and love. I gave you two mighty friends of mine who walked with you and taught you during the earliest days of your reign. I let you watch as I freed many of your closest friends from the stone that bound them as statues—some for many years—with my own breath. And, I allowed _you_ and your sister to witness my greatest act of love—you cannot love someone more than if you are willing to die for them—and I died for you, your brothers and your sister, and for all those who came before you, and for all those who will come after you."

Susan was quiet and Aslan looked at her with compassion in His eyes. He said, "Beloved, you have spent so much time these last few weeks trying to make yourself busy enough to forget all that happened last year, but I want you to remember—remember _me_ when you think of those things. When you think of Cor, remember me. Remember me whenever you face the darkness—I am your Light."

Susan still yearned to ask Him if she'd ever see Cor again someday, but now she found the strength to push that desire away. After all, she knew the answer—she _would_ see him again, even if she had to wait her whole life for it.

"Alright, Aslan—I know you and I trust you—with Cor, and with Peter and Ed and Lu—with Corin and Lune—and with me—with everything really. Will you be there whenever I'm weak?"

"Yes, my growing lioness—I'm always beside you—always ahead of you—always behind you."

"Thank you for coming, Aslan."

"I'm always here."

"I know."

Susan leaned into Him and pressed her face into the warmth of His mane, and grew stronger from it.

"I should get going," she said reluctantly, her voice muffled against His body, "The dwarves will be waiting…"

Aslan's laughter again rumbled all around, making her shake in its vibrations. "No they're not," He laughed, "I stopped by there on my way here to tell them that I needed to speak with you—I also provided them with the help they needed."

Susan giggled, "Well, of course, you did—but the day isn't passed yet. Shouldn't I go help them now that we've talked? They were set to work all day."

"No, beloved." He said as He stood up and kissed her forehead, "You must go home to Cair Paravel—your family misses you. Tell them what I've told you, so that they might remember me during the dark hours that they will face and are facing."

"They're facing dark hours now, Aslan?" Susan looked surprised and worried, "I didn't realize."

Aslan growled gently, "But you _do know_, child. You're not the only one who misses Cor and Alina—and your brothers and sister have had the added burden of missing _you_, as well."

Susan looked downward, "I—well, I guess I did know—and I didn't care, did I? I'm sorry, Aslan. I was to wrapped up in my own pain and I made their pain worse because of it."

"But, remember, beloved, you have the knowledge to make things right now."

"I do, don't I?"

"Yes, beloved."

Susan stood up, and brushed the grass from her riding skirt, "Then I'll hurry home and tell them." She sung herself aboard Celeste. The filly, sensing speed was needed, quivered in excitement.

"Will you come again soon, Aslan?" Susan asked curiously, "the others will be sorry to have missed you."

"Of course—and they will be content with the message I send to them through you."

"What is soon to you, dear Aslan?"

"All times are soon to me, beloved."

Susan looked at the ground, loathed to leave His presence, and then looked up, determined to share His message.

"Then until we see you in Narnia again—goodbye, dear Aslan." Her voice was gentle and wistful, but also strong and resolute. Then she turned Celeste toward home, and soon they were practically flying.

As Cair Paravel came into sight, she felt a nervous knot twisting in her stomach, but she pushed that feeling away. She'd been sent to deliver a message and she wasn't going to let silly feelings, that weren't even true, get in the way of what He'd asked her to do. Her siblings would understand and they would welcome His message, there was no reason for her to feel nervous.

She hurriedly took care of Celeste and ran all the way to the palace while ignoring the worried expressions of those who saw her speed past. She only stopped once to answer the questions of a frantic baby Talking Sparrow, whose nest was in a tree overhanging the castle wall, and who was too young to take to the sky.

"We're not under attack, are we, your majesty?" he chirped worriedly, "You're not in danger, are you?"

"Why no, little one," Susan skidded to a stop to reply, "Whatever would make you think such a thing?"

"You hurry so fast, your majesty—you've never run so fast unless there was trouble."

"I'm hurrying because I saw Aslan this morning and He wants me to tell my brothers and sister what He told me."

"Oh, Aslan!" The little Sparrow chirped excitedly and beat his downy wings, "I'd like to meet Him! Where is He?"

"He's gone on now, little one," Susan said gently, "I couldn't have asked Him to stay longer—but I'm sure that, one day, you will meet Him!"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" the little Sparrow chirped, and Susan smiled.

"Little one, I must—"

"Oh, yes, yes, yes—please excuse me, your majesty."

The little Sparrow bounced and waved his wings and almost flew, but then thumped back into his nest and shook himself off with embarrassment. Susan stifled a giggle, blew him a kiss, and then ran on. She burst through a side door and crashed into Edmund who was carrying several pieces of beaten up armor toward the armory to hammer out the dents.

"Why am I _forever_ running into people," Edmund scowled, as he bent over to pick up the pieces without looking to see who he'd run into.

"I don't think that I could possibly begin to answer that." Susan laughed, unable to stifle it.

Edmund looked up, startled by the sound of her voice, and cried, "Su! What in the world—you look like your old self again!" He was so pleased that he almost laughed, but then he noticed something _was_ different about her, "I say, your face is positively glowing—what happened?"

"I've talked with Aslan, of course," Susan was suddenly business-like, "No one glows like this unless they've seen _Him_."

"Oh, of course!"

He helped me see that I was wrong to act the way I've been acting lately—I'm sorry for the way I've behaved, truly, I am—but Him message wasn't just for me in my lousy attitude He wants me to pass it along to you, Peter, and Lucy."

"Well then," Edmund asked, "Shall we gather them?" Then he added, "And, Su—I'm glad your back."

He dropped all the armor, which he'd just picked up, back onto the middle of the floor, and brushed off his arms. Susan put a hand over her month to cover her laughter. Edmund was a total neat freak and here he was dumping a pile of armor on the floor.

"Me too," she answered him, "I'm glad to be back too."

About a half an hour later, Susan stood before her siblings in the privacy of the little room that connected their four bedrooms. Edmund, who had seen Susan first and was mostly recovered from seeing her back to her old self, waited, with happy curiosity, to know what the Lion had to tell them. Peter, who was still surprised at the change in his oldest little sister, sat looking enormously relived. Lucy looked only supremely happy to have her older sister back to her true from.

Susan's face had not lost its glow and her eyes sparkled with her new insight. She felt a longing to have her brothers and sister share in that insight. So, she told them all that had happened.

* * *

This chapter was co-sponsored by Psalm 46:10, 2 Tim. 2:13, and Psalm 139:5.

My thanks to Raina and Hope for their reading and reviews! I'm glad you like it!


	6. I'll Stand By You

Susan lay in her bed, staring at the odd shadows floating around the stateroom that she shared with her sister. They were onboard the Splendor Hyaline, their new flag ship, and Lucy was already asleep on the other side of the room. The boys were probably sleeping too, in their stateroom across the hall, but Susan wasn't quite ready for sleep yet. Nervousness and excitement were chasing each other back and forth inside her head.

They had ruled Narnia for just over two years now and had yet to set foot in Tashbaan, but that was about to change. The Tiscroc's official reason for inviting them was to renegotiate an old treaty that set tariffs in the Lone Islands, but the tetrarch had learned that Calormenes always had ulterior motives, and Susan wondered what was really going to happen. Despite that, she couldn't have been happier that Peter had decided that they would be more formidable if they were together and hence they were all making the trip.

Just before they'd retired for bed, their first-mate, Mbuzi, a big burly faun, had called them on deck for their first view of the great southern city—just a silhouette lying beyond the moonbeams that scattered glittering light across the marble-smooth Eastern Ocean. They could have easily come into the harbor by now, but no one, not even the Tisroc's invited guests, was allowed to enter the city after dusk, so Peter had ordered the sails be taken down and the crew found a sandbar on which to drop their anchor till morning.

Now, aided by the glow of her small candle, Susan rummaged through a rucksack beside her bed and pulled out Swanwhite's diary—bound in midnight-blue cloth with golden stars sewn across it. Aslan's star, shaped like a Cross with its long tail, was in the top right corner. She flipped to the correct page and began reading.

_I'm most pleased with how my day has gone, and I daresay, I've found new confidence in my ability to lead this wonderful land, because I have such faithful servants, who will stand by me, even when we don't agree._

_Several months ago, my council and I began discussing changes that I felt needed to be made to our treaty with Tashbaan. There was much debate within chambers and I think most, if not all, of my advisors were against me when it came to the final decision. It isn't that I didn't consider what they said, and truly, I did change a few things in the final draft because of their concerns, but when it came down to it, I was still convinced that the changes I wanted were necessary and I went ahead with them. Unfortunately, other business came up and I was not able to travel to Tashbaan for the finale debates and signing. I sent, in my stead, one of my most trusted advisors—even after he had so vehemently opposed me in my decision._

_Well, he just got back today, and he told me all that went on. He said that he fears there's a mole on my council because the Tarkaans offered him money to scrape my offer in favor of one that was very similar to what he had proposed. He said that the pressure was relentless and in the end they offered him a very high position on the Tiscroc's own council, if he would concede. I'm so thankful that he was faithful to me and stayed firmly behind what I, his Queen, wanted. I've also learn how important it is to keep our disagreements close, because those that mean Narnia ill will pounce at the slightest opportunity—now, I must find that mole and throw him out of my council, and possibly more._

Susan gently laid the diary back amongst her things and stifled a yawn—it seemed as though these days of salty water and air, the lull of gentle waves constantly under her feet, and the general goings-on aboard the ship made her awfully sleepy at night, but she was glad for that. They would soon be in Tashbaan!

* * *

The next morning, Lucy stood, with her hands on the ship's railing and her golden hair loose and blowing in the breeze, scowling at the gigantic city in the distance as the sun continued its morning ascent into the sky.

"It does _not_ sparkle like the sun," she said, with contempt, to no one in particular.

Edmund laughed as he came to stand beside her, "Of course not, Lu—the Tarkaans are only blowing gas around when they talk like that—say, I thought you knew that?"

"Well, yes, I do know that they talk very grandly, but well, I don't know, I guess I was _hoping_ that they were only exaggerating a whole lot—not running around talking crazy talk. I've always found sunbeams to be absolutely beautiful, and well, for the Tarkaans to compare their gaudy-looking old city to the _sun_, is just flat-out wrong! It makes the sun seem cheaper, don't you think?"

Edmund laughed again and looked up at the sun for as long as he could before he turned away to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. He said, "No, nothing could make the sun cheaper, Lu."

Lucy turned her face skyward for her own look, and then turned away to blink back tears, saying, "You know, I believe, you're right, Ed."

"What is this?" Peter's asked from behind them, "A who can blind themselves first contest?"

The two younger ones turned to see their two older siblings standing arm in arm behind them.

"No, no," Edmund chuckled, "Lucy and I were just discussing how Tashbaan doesn't sparkle like the sun."

Peter snorted, and said, "Well, of course not."

He went on, "But I'll tell you what needs discussing—do you suppose Prince Rashbad will—ow, Susan, don't hit me –I'm the High King, after all."

"Yes, and, he's so very delicate too," Edmund chimed in with a laugh.

"Don't start, Ed—_you're_ the one who keeps messing up the Prince's name, till I can barely remember what it really is—_Rabadash_! See, I _can_ say it right, Su? And, don't worry, Ed can too—he just seems to enjoy driving me nuts."

"You boys deserve everything Susan is going to dish out," Lucy laughed and shook her head. Then she took Susan's arm and began steering her clearly angry older sister back below deck, saying, "Come on, Su—Tashbaan is nearly upon us and we ought to get more properly dressed, don't you suppose?"

Susan turned and allowed Lucy to lead the way, but Peter's voice called to them, "Wait a minute, you two—I need some advice!"

The girls waited expectantly.

"What do you suppose I should do if Rabadash brings up me beating him in the tournament last year?"

Susan huffed, and called back, "Why don't you and Ed sort that out!"

* * *

"I can't quite believe that there can be such poverty, cruelty, and dirtiness just beyond these walls, when there's all this beauty _inside_ the walls." Lucy said, as she stared out a second floor window, in their apartment in Tashbaan, with a frown on her face.

"I believe that's called false beauty, Lu," Edmund stated as he came to stand beside her, "See, if they can't see "the rabble", as they call the people, then I suppose they can forget about them and create a pretty world to keep themselves from seeing the truth."

Lucy's scowl only deepened.

"Come on, you two," Peter called to them. He and Susan were already occupying an ornately decorated divan. "We need to talk about this deal they're offering—not that talking about it will help—it's complete hogwash."

Susan gave her older brother a sharp look of disapproval, but said nothing.

"I think we should just go back to Cair Paravel if that's all they've got!" Edmund complained tersely.

"But we just got here," Lucy protested, as she hurried to take a seat, "Maybe we could help some of the poor souls out there while we're here."

"And I think you boys are too hard on their position," Susan countered her brothers.

Peter bit his lip, disliking a disagreement with his sister. "How so?" He asked.

"Well, don't you suppose it _is_ a hardship for them not to be able to resupply their ships more cheaply before they sail on to the northern lands—they do business with those friendly giants we've heard about living in the north of Ettinsmoor, and we _do _let some nations resupply in the islands for free and still others at a price far lower than what we ask of the Calormenes."

"Well, now, by _some_ nations," Peter, said, "I do believe that you mean _one_ nation, sister—we let Lune's ships resupply for free and that has to do with a treaty that's far older than us."

He went on, "And the nations that can resupply at lower prices has to do with old treaties too—as does the higher Calormene price—I just don't see any reason to fix something that isn't broken. The Calormenes continually flout the terms of old treaties anyway, and we've suspected a Tashbaan-orchestrated black market running through the islands for some time now—why should we reward these shady characters—and what are you _doing_, Ed?"

Edmund's head swiveled around, his expression dark. He whispered, "Do you feel like we're being watched? I have the strangest feeling—"

Everyone stiffened and the room was silent for a few minutes. Susan's expression gradually darkened too. She began glancing around saying, "Now that you mention it—".

"So you think there's a Judas hole or something?" Peter asked in a low dangerous tone.

"We're in Tashbaan after all," Edmund whispered, as he continued to look across the walls and ceiling. "I'm sure they could have any number of ways to spy on us."

Lucy hopped up from the divan and walked towards the plant lined walls.

"You see something, Lu?" Susan whispered.

"No, but I don't imagine that we _will_ see anything, as long as we're sitting on our bottoms—these walls are positively packed with clutter."

The others looked at each other, embarrassed. "Ah, well, leave it to Lu to point out something like that," Edmund muttered.

Then everyone took up the search.

*~0~*

"Now, tell me again why you left before they'd finished talking," the Tisroc asked his two best spies, in a wheezy voice. His face was so fat that it would have been hard for anyone to tell that he was speaking, except for the sound coming from his lips.

"Queen Lucy kept pounding her fist on the wall—we didn't want to be caught if she was able to detect how thin those walls are. King Peter said something about a Judas hole, and we've asked your scholars to find out what that is, but we don't think it has anything to do with thin walls, so our secret will not be discovered—for now."

"It better _never_ be discovered," the Tisroc's voice oozed venom, and his Tarkaans trembled.

"Of course not, O your Excellency, may you live forever, of course not—they are merely foolish children, after all, and you know what the poets say—"

"Don't quote poetry to me, O most wise and exalted Tarkaan," the Tisroc snarled, "unless you want to lose your head and hitherto be remembered as a most unwise fool of base birth, who only masqueraded as a Tarkaan—those four _children_, as you call them, are very dangerous adversaries, and you must never let your guard down when you deal with them."

The two Tarkaans fell as one to their faces and began kissing the Tisroc's feet, "Oh, to have such a wise and gifted ruler like yourself," they wailed, "Oh, surely you are the most wise of all Tisrocs and Tash, our great father, will select _you_ to live forever—"

"Enough!" the Tisroc growled, "Wait until I've finished telling you how I want this situation dealt with."

The Tarkaans scrambled to their feet, and said, "It will undoubtedly be the finest plan the world has yet known—you alone could come up with such brilliant thoughts, such wise words, such—"

"Quiet!" the Tisroc screamed, as much as his fat cheeks would allow, "Or you will not live to see these plans fulfilled."

The Tarkaans fell silent and their pointy little shoes shook with fear.

"We will begin at dinner."

* * *

The tetrarch's discussion continued late that night, after an unusually long banquet that the Tisroc had thrown to welcome them to Tashbaan. They were all very tired and feeling very much like the children that their shoe sizes said they were rather than the kings and queens Aslan told them they were.

"My goodness, I think I know why children our age aren't allowed to drink back in England," Lucy said, rubbing her eyes, hoping to make her hangover go away.

"The Tisroc probably did that on purpose," Edmund grumped, "I saw how the waiters kept filling your glass."

"Oh, did you?" Lucy asked, giving him a dirty look, "Well, thanks for stepping in big bro," she snapped.

Edmund was ready to reply, but Peter growled, "Alright, alright—enough. We have work to do here—Su, do you _still_ think we should give them what they want?"

"I do," she frowned at her big brother, "Honestly, Peter, don't you suppose the black market business would dry up if we were more fair—I should think Aslan would like it if we were more fair."

"I don't—if we give the Calormenes a inch, I think they'd leverage miles out of us until we have nothing left—_Aslan_ wouldn't like that."

"I have to say, I think Peter is right about this one, Su," Lucy said. She stopped rubbing her temples long enough to give her sister a disgusted look with her blood-shot eyes, "These Tarkaans are as dirty as they come—imagine getting your guests drunk!"

"_You_ could have told them to stop, Lu," Susan pointed out, in a somewhat sarcastic tone, "You're a queen, dear, and they're waiters."

Lucy scowled at her, but the younger queen wished she'd done just that.

"Are you _still_ paranoid about being listened too, Ed?" Peter asked, in as unexpected change of subject.

"Yes." Edmund answered, almost absentmindedly, has he stared at the wall near the door.

"Or are you drunk too?" Peter took an unneeded jab, "Come on, Ed—pay attention—we looked all over those walls—there's nothing there."

A huge brightly brocaded pillow flew from the divan and sailed over the high king's head.

"Ha-ha, oh man, you _must_ be drunk—I didn't even have to duck," Peter laughed as he grabbed another pillow to sling across the room."

"Well, this meeting is going well," Susan muttered.

*~0~*

"O, most worthy amazing, terrible, fearsome, Tisroc, may you, who is all-knowing and has untold amounts of wisdom, live forever, for your plan has succeeded—when we left, the four northern barbarians, were arguing about—pillows, it seems—although, the walls are not quite so thin as for us to see through them."

"Of course, my plan succeeded," the Tisroc murmured, "My plans _always_ succeed, and if you're trying to suggest that even _one_ of my plans has not succeeded, you would not leave this room with your lives."

"O, most wondrous, noble, terrible descendant of our great and fearsome god Tash, we would _never_ suggest such a thing."

"Then you will live a bit longer, you old buffoons. But, tell me, what did the four barbarians talk about before they started arguing?"

"The oldest girl is still the most pliable—we think that if we could get her alone, we will be able to convince her to sign something that is more favorable to us."

The Tisroc smiled, "My eldest son has told me that she is their weak link—do as you have asked, and press her until she has given us _all_ that we ask for."

* * *

After a good night's sleep, the tetrarch felt like themselves again, and they spent most of the early hours, before the sun rose, apologizing to one another and cleaning up. After a light breakfast, a courtier from the Tisroc came to tell them that the meetings would be delayed until the afternoon so that their guests would be able to explore the palaces and city. This news cheered the tetrarch up a great deal, and even Peter's quick meeting, in which no one changed their positions, didn't really dampen anyone's sprits.

Lucy headed for the streets, in hopes of saving some poor person, but Peter made her take a centaur and a faun. That only slightly damped her bright mood as she wanted to get as close as she could to the population and sometimes she thought the guards were too protective. The really funny part was that one of the Tarkaans, who couldn't believe that a queen would want to keep company with "the rabble", sent his daughter along to keep Lucy company while she explored.

Edmund, who was growing obsessed with the idea of a Judas hole in the room, wanted to stay behind and keep looking, but Susan said that would be impolite. Peter asked his brother to come on a tour of the locks system on the river with him.

"Why?" Edmund asked, "It's not like we could employ them in Narnia—the river god wouldn't stand for it."

"I wasn't even considering that," Peter smacked him playfully, "I'm just interested, that's all, and the Tarkaan offered, so…"

"Well, that should make it fun," Edmund said, with a note of sarcasm.

"Oh, good, I'm glad you're coming then," Peter said with a smirk.

"Ed—get out of here," Susan ordered, "We've looked all over this room and there's no hole anywhere—and _if_, by chance, we've missed it—don't you suppose giving our eyes and heads a break will help us in our search?"

Edmund brightened up, and said. "Well now, _that's_ talking sense, Su—so does this mean you believe me about the hole?"

Susan looked thoughtful, and replied carefully, "Well, I-I do think that _something_ is amiss—there is some strangeness about this room, but I wonder if it's just us being around people who are so vastly different from our own. Do you know that I've heard the most hideous screams coming from the street every night we've been here?"

"Yes, we've heard them too," Peter answered grimly, "Lucy said she wanted to find whoever is making them—if she can."

"Well, I hope that Tarkheena doesn't get to her first," Edmund chuckled.

"I doubt she will," Peter replied, "In fact, we may find a reformed Tarkheena on our hands when they get back."

"You might have something there, Pete," Edmund chuckled.

"Well, at any rate," Susan interrupted, "you boys get out of here and clear your heads." She shooed them toward the door.

"And where will you go, Su?" Peter asked, with his hand on the bejeweled doorknob.

"Oh, I think I'll wonder around in the hanging gardens," she replied.

* * *

It was close to a half-hour, after the boys left that Susan finally exited their apartments. As she stepped into the hallway, her sandal caught on the brocade carpet and, losing her balance, she reached out to steady herself against the wall.

How strange, she thought, with some surprise, these walls are so much thinner than the other rooms I've been in. Perhaps, it's just designed in a different style.

Then she headed down the hall and soon forgot all about it.

Not long after she'd immersed herself in the sights and smells of the Tisroc's hanging gardens, she heard soft footsteps padding up behind her.

"Hello, O fairest of all Queens," Tarkaan Rajul's sugary voice gushed. Susan let the bloom that was cupped in her hands fall toward the ground as she turned to face the man.

Rajul caught the flower in mid-air and held it out for her to take, saying, "One so beautiful as you shouldn't drop things of beauty like this flower—the poets tell us of a great beauty who once let a beautiful rose fall from her hands, and, as punishment, the gods let her beauty fall away from her on her wedding night—can you imagine what her poor husband woke up to find in the morning?"

It took all Susan's effort to keep a straight face as she replied, and she was quite pleased when her voice came out sounding extra cold.

"Is there something that I'm needed for, or have you disturbed this time that your Tisroc has afforded me and my siblings for no other purpose than your own amusement?"

Rajul stiffed in fear, at the mention of the Tisroc, but then recovered and said, "Well, actually, I was hoping that I might get a word in with you about a new offer that our wise, noble, terrible Tisroc, may he live forever, is willing to offer regarding the treaty discussions that we'll host this afternoon."

"I don't see why you should come to me alone, instead of waiting until the meeting this afternoon," Susan replied, with a frown, "My brothers and sister are entitled to hear about the new terms."

"Well, we thought that perhaps you would be willing to sign a deal this morning—you are all equal in rank, are you not? Then, why shouldn't you just sign the deal and tell them about it later? They will not protest if, as you say, you are all equal in rank."

"What kind of dumb logic did this guy learn in school? Susan wondered, as her emotions flamed.

"You're quite mistaken in your knowledge of how my family works, Rajul," Susan responded coldly, "I will _not_ sign one letter of my titles to _any_ document without the blessings of my family."

"But if you are all equal?" Rajul tried again, his voice becoming whiny.

"We are equal to each other, but that means that we equally share the joys and burdens of our leadership, not that we each make independent decisions without the input of the others—I would _never_ go against my family's wishes—on _any_ matter."

"We know you are more favorable to—"

"What?" Susan growled, "How do you know what we've said amongst ourselves?"

"Well uh, the poets have said that with age comes wisdom, and I am much older than your majesty's young years—"

"It would be cause for war between us if you were spying—"

"We were not," the Tarkaan lied. Then he went on, hoping to frighten her into conceding, "And _you_ gravely insult _our_ Tisroc, may he live forever, by your suggestion—_that_ is a cause for war and Tash is a terrible foe."

"I've suggested nothing of the sort," Susan replied, remaining calm, despite her growing anger, "It is _you_ who suggested such an offence took place."

"I did not, your most beautiful majesty," the Tarkaan continued to hold his ground.

"Then we have nothing to discuss until we meet this afternoon—good-day to you." Susan said, then she spun around and hurried from the gardens. As she walked, and then ran, her mind whirled—Edmund was right about spies!

But how did they do it? Suddenly, she remembered the thin walls. She stopped in her tracks and her face paled with anger. Then she ran on. As she reached their apartments, she found her siblings all together, chattering about their morning. Lucy was having a fit of laughter as she talked, and Susan couldn't understand what she said, but she heard Edmund responded.

"That poor Tarkheena," he murmured.

Susan cleared her throat for their attention.

"What's _wrong_, Su?" Peter asked, alarmed at the sight of her face. The younger two fell silent, waiting for her to reply, but their faces echoed Peter's words.

Susan's voice was grave as she replied, "We must all have a talk."

* * *

This chapter has been sponsored by Prov. 31:11-12. Yes, I'm very much aware that this bit of Prov. 31 is about a husband and wife, and I don't intend to suggest any such relationship between the Pevensies. I just thought that they have to work in a similar way—if one goes their own way in a decision or they don't have full confidence in each other, Narnia would be in a hard spot.

In another note, I'm sorry to announce one of those breaks I mentioned in the summary. I know this latest ending isn't an exceptionally ideal place for a break, but I'm just a little bit out of ideas as to where to go next—although, I do vaguely have a setting in mind. I just want a month or so to get some other stories going. I do hope you'll stop by my page to read the other stories!

My thanks to Guest for the review!


	7. A Bridge to the Past

With the glow of a magnificent pink and gold sunset behind him, Peter reached down from a mountain ledge to pulled Susan and then Lucy up from below, as Edmund scrambled up after them. Then Peter turned to the Snow Leopard waiting beside him.

"Would you like a break, your majesty?" Selene asked, twitching her tail, as she studied the four weary faces.

Peter looked at the others, who shook their heads.

"No, we'll push on till we're there."

The tetrarchs had been fighting on again, off again skirmishes with Tashbaan, ever since fleeing the great southern city under the cover of night and now they were headed deep into the mountains along their northern border due to consistent rumors that Calormenes were slipping through Ettinsmoore. A small army was situated in the foothills if fighting was necessary, but this was merely a scouting mission. Their current destination was a huge ice palace and former winter retreat of Narnian royals, called Sorvete. From there they would plan and carry out their operations.

Selene gave a brief nod before leaping, near vertically, to the next ledge, then she peered down at tetrarchs from above. Edmund whistle softly as they stared up at her, then the Four began digging out picks and uncoiling ropes in order to climb higher. Selene watched their progress for several minutes before turning to scour the sides of the mountains. Her intense pale green eyes lit up at the sight of a large herd of Bighorn Sheep nibbling the short grasses on outcroppings a good distance below them.

"You there," she called, with a slight growl in her voice. She wasn't angry, but growls tend to naturally arise when any Cat speaks sternly. The big Ram looked up and Selene noted that it was Roslag's family.

"Bring some of your sons and come help your kings and queens," Selene tilted her head toward the tetrarchs, who were now curiously watching the scene.

Roslag talked with his group for a minute, then he and several of his largest sons bounded skillfully over the rocks to where the Pevensies waited. Selene explained what their need was and soon the tetrarchs were holding on tightly as the Rams bounded from one ledge to another as easily as gazelles over flat ground. A few minutes and several stomach flips later, they disembarked to stand on firm ground, with their belongings offloaded moments later. The site before them was truly stunning.

A great ice palace towered some three stories in the air, with sparking spiraling ice turrets rising even higher in the frigid mountain air. In the quickly darkening landscape, Bats winged about the grounds carrying torches in their mouths to illuminate the many lamp stands that stood on the grounds and on the windows ledges and balconies. Though the sharply cut windows, the Pevensies saw more Bats lighting torches within the residence. A light snow was falling, and the snowflakes twinkled like flashes of fire as they descended past the lights. The four siblings watched bedazzled.

"It looks like we got here just in time for a great light show," Edmund murmured softly, not wanting to disturb the atmosphere. Lucy nodded in happy agreement, her eyes aglow, reflecting more than just the beauty of the snowy wonderland.

"Welcome to Sorvete," Selene purred, as she stared fondly at the enormous palace.

Susan turned to give a thankful smile to Roslag and his sons. "Thank you ever so much," she said gratefully, "We'd have been the middle of the night getting here, if you hadn't given us a lift." The rest of the tetrarchs agreed wholeheartedly.

"No trouble at all, your majesties," Roslag's bleating voice responded and his sons murmured their agreement, "We are honored."

With Selene leading way, the weary tetrarchs headed up the snow-covered path, dragging their weapons, climbing gear, and other personal belongings. Peter asked, "We've heard that this place was used quite often by the kings and queens of old—as I recall, it was more of a retreat home, not a fortress back then, so why is it so difficult to get here? Wouldn't there be a road if people came here on holidays?"

"There used to be a well-kept road, your majesty," Selene paused to look back at them as she replied, "But over a hundred years without visitors will take its toll on a place."

"You mean that the Witch never used this place?" Lucy asked, perking up slightly in surprise.

"No, your majesty," Selene paused again, "and we're all very grateful for that. We mountain-folk would have been obliged to fight her and we wouldn't have stood a chance against her wand." She continued moving toward the door as she finished her thought, "It seems as though the Witch preferred to rule from the heart of Narnia."

"Are the mountain-folk under oath to protect this place?" Peter asked, raising his head to view the entire structure as he came closer to the entrance.

"Yes, your majesty," Selene paused just shy of the door and Peter came forward with the heavy keys. He pulled hard to open the long closed door, and with a loud crack, it gave way, revealing a dusty entrance hall, with assorted rooms running down each side and the beginnings of a spiraling ice stairway, just around the corner at the far end. A gust of cold wind blew past him, blasting down the hallway as if in a wind tunnel, throwing up snow and dust to swirl among the strange shadows cast by the torch lights.

Susan peered over Peter's shoulder. "It has the same sort of feeling that the Cair had when we first came," she commented softly, as she made her way inside behind her older brother, "although, there _is_ something different about it."

"Yes," Edmund nodded sagely, "It's _colder_ up here." but Susan ignored him as she studied the ancient artwork that was etched in the ice walls.

"They're beautiful," she commented in a hushed voice, taking in each scene in turn, and laughing a little when she realized that each scene depicted something to do with Spring.

There was a Maying party riding in the woods, Fauns playing their flutes and dancing among the flowers, a great Pegasus frolicking in the meadow with its new-born colt, and last, but not least, a young woman staring down into the depths of a crystal pond with her reflection staring back. Susan smiled as she recognized the scene, then an ancient script caught her eye, as it ran along the bottom of the wall. She read it quietly, almost to herself.

_Though the Winter season comes to every life, for those that know Him, Spring is waiting just around the corner._

Lucy stepped inside, and looked around, saying, "You know, I believe Su is right—there's no doubt that magic is in this place, but I can't help to think that it's somehow _darker_ than the magic that filled the Cair when we first came." She turned to Selene, who was bringing up the rear, "Was this always a happy place or was there ever some great tragedy that happened here long ago?"

Selene shook her head. "I don't know, your majesty," she said softy, "I'm much too young to have seen the days of old, but from most everything I've heard, it was always a happy place." She paused in thought, "I suppose you might ask the Black Dwarves—they live the longest of any of the mountain-folk, and I've heard rumors that their children sing songs about the days of old. As for me, I always thought it was childish exaggeration." She shuddered and shook her head.

"And what do their songs say?" Peter asked, looking stern in his concern.

Selene shuddered again, "Something about Narnians being cooked alive and eaten—I don't know the exact words, but I've heard that the song originates from a time before the Witch, so that always made me skeptical that it was really true. From everything I heard, the Tree of Protection protected us from evil."

Peter noticed that Edmund's eyes took on a particular gleam, and knowing how much his brother loved a good mystery, he began to suspect that this trip might turn into more than just a reconnaissance mission. He jerked his head down the hall and his younger siblings proceeded forward. He waited for them to pass, then spoke to Selene.

"Our many thanks to you, my dear Leopard," he said, "for your guidance in bringing us here. If you'd be kind enough to convey our thanks again to Roslag and his family, we'd be most grateful, but as for the four of us, we must catch a few hours sleep, then proceed with our plans."

Selene inclined her head, "As you wish, your majesty," she purred.

Peter continued, "And we thank you and the other mountain-folk mightily for your faithful protection of this place for so many years."

Selene inclined her head again, "It is an honor, your majesty, and a pleasure—we mountain-folk have always taken great pride in this place."

"As well you should," Peter replied, smiling.

"The guards are at their posts even tonight, your majesty."

"Thank you, Selene."

Once the Snow Leopard departed and the tetrarchs were alone, Peter called them together, "I think a few hours sleep will clear our minds enough to do a quick scouting job tonight—just to get our bearings. We're quite close to the Ettin border, aren't we?"

"Yes," Edmund nodded in agreement, "although, I really do think we should have a better system for marking it out—once peace comes to last longer than a few weeks."

"I must say, I agree wholeheartedly, brother," Peter nodded, "But as for tonight, I'd just like to get a proper bearing, so if an attack _does_ come, we'll know what's where. We don't want to rankle the Ettin Giants any more than might be necessary to drive out the Calormenes."

"Best done at night," Edmund agreed, getting a shifty look on his face.

"Exactly," Peter laughed.

"Then to bed." Lucy said simply.

Susan nodded, saying, "Let's find rooms here on the first floor—then we won't have to go far to get outside and we won't waste time searching for a room we'd like to have—there'll be time for that on another trip."

Not long afterward, Susan and Lucy found themselves buried amongst thick wooly blankets in one room, while Peter and Edmund slept across the hall. Susan thought that Lucy was asleep, and she quietly, pulled Swanwhite's diary—this one bound in wheat-colored cloth, with a ruby-colored outline of the Lion's head on its front—from her pack and touched a lighted match to the wick of a small candle.

"You should sleep, Su," Lucy's sleepy voice came through the darkness on the other side of the room, "Peter wants us up and about in a few hours."

"I'll sleep in a few minutes," Susan answered quietly, "I just want to read a quick page beforehand."

"Well, alright," Lucy mumbled sleepily, and Susan watched her sister's silhouette turn over and burrow deeper under her covers before turning back to read.

_Here I sit, deep inside Sorvete, trying to cope with the most hideous thing that has ever happened in this still young reign of mime—and I daresay, I truly hope that something of this magnitude and horror has never happened before, nor ever will again. Sorvete was once such a happy place for me and countless people and Beasts before me—why I remember sliding down the icy stairs on my stomach as a child—but no more. This place will forever hold pain and anguish for me now, and doubtless, I will never come here again._

_What began as a joyous diplomatic tour to the dedication of a new stone bridge in Ettinsmoore ended in horror and death for a great many of my countrymen at Harfang—I wish I'd known that those Giants eat, yes eat, sons and daughters of Adam and Eve, and Talking Beasts! I would have refused their invitation to the bridge opening, and put many a guard along the River Scribble! Oh, how I wish this hadn't happened or that I may have perished in the furnaces with those good Beasts or that my council would accept my desire to abdicate, for surely, I am no longer fit to wear this crown and lead this land._

_Yet, I can only sit in despair and dread having to tell my good subjects of our great loss—the count stands at six foxes, five stags, eight hedgehogs, fourteen sparrows, and two bears, lost to the fires of Harfang's furnaces. Oh, I know that this great tragedy will not only grieve the families and friends of those that were lost, but it will also lay the whole land low. How I wish that I could have been among them, for I am their Queen, and a queen must never run away when her good subjects are in peril, but my dear guard, Hippocampe—great Centaur that he is—pulled me to his back and took me away, ignoring all my pleas for him to stop._

_Since I was not permitted to remain and parish as a queen ought to do, I've prayed ceaselessly to Aslan that He would simply take my life and I would gladly go to whatever punishment the Lion calls me too, but it has been to no avail. He says that I must remain in this world. Then I implored Him to let me go back, to let me lead the Army to Harfang to collect our dead, but this too, He has denied me—He only says that those duties will fall to others, no doubt at a time of His choosing._

Susan shook from the cruelty of Swanwhite's tale, and she wiped away the ice-cold tears that slid down her cheeks. Not wanting to wake Lucy or call attention to herself, she noiselessly laid the diary aside and slid under her covers, but she didn't sleep.

* * *

"She'll be hear momentarily, Peter." Susan heard Lucy say as she hurried down the hall to join the others. Then her sister's voice came again, more tense this time. "She was wrapping her face in extra scarves when I left, Peter—stop nagging. We have plenty of time to do what we need too, and you picked the perfect night—there's no moon. No, don't speak, it's cold out, and if you want my opinion, I don't think Su slept very well."

"I'm here," Susan said quietly as she stepped into the room behind them. She looked toward Peter, saying, "I'm sorry."

Peter nodded, his eyes narrowing with concern as he studied her, but Edmund broke up the scene by cocking a brow at the multiple layers of scarves that hid all but Susan's eyes, "Cold, Su?" he quipped.

Susan ignored him and Peter shook away his worry and began detailing the night's operation, using the maps of northern Narnia and southern Ettinsmoore that he'd laid on a birch wood table.

"Alright, I think it would be best to split into groups of two—Lu and I will go to the northwest and Su and Ed, you go due north, then cut northeast. Remember, we don't want to get into a skirmish unless it's absolutely unavoidable. And," he added, "don't cross into Ettinsmoore-I just want to know where we are in relation to the Calormenes—if they're even here—so we can come up with a battle plan. Then we can bring in proper reinforcements."

"Right then," Edmund nodded, "And when shall we be expected back here?"

"Be back before dawn—the bright shiny sun isn't our ally on this mission."

As they filed out of the room, Edmund, bringing up the rear, spotted a crumbled piece of paper along the wall; it was yellow with age and fragile to his touch. Always loving a good mystery, his eyes lit up at the new discovery and studied the writing for a moment under the torch light. Then gently pressed it into his coat and hurried after the others with an odd look on his face.

* * *

More than a few hours later, Susan and Edmund settled behind a large boulder and peered around its sides, looking toward a small campfire far in the distance. It was the first peculiar thing they'd seen on their reconnaissance mission.

"Do you suppose it's Calormenes?" Susan whispered.

"We're too far away to tell." Edmund whispered back.

"Let's move closer. I don't think we'll cross the border, but If we happen too, it's for a good reason, and I won't tell if you don't."

Edmund muffled his laughter in a heavy sleeve as he followed his older sister down the slope.

They slipped down the mountainside like ghosts, with quickness and stealth, only pausing momentarily when Susan caught a glimpse of a huge stone bridge, far in the distance. Remembering it as the bridge in Swanwhite's diary, she visibly shuddered before hurrying on. All too soon brother and sister dropped to a crouch behind a tall pillar-like rock and peered around it. They soon saw that the camp wasn't Calormene, but Black Dwarves making an early breakfast. Susan eyed the sky while Edmund stared hard at the little group. He asked, "Do any of them look like children? I'd love know how their little song goes."

"No," Susan whispered back, then glanced back at the dimming stars in the sky, "Perhaps, we ought to head back." She turned to go back up the trail, but Edmund's hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her hard back to the ground.

"Alright, Su, what's up?"

Susan looked confused.

"Oh, don't give me that," Edmund growled, "I _saw_ your reaction to that stone bridge and give me a break, it's not _that_ cold out here, and your eyes are all red—you've been crying haven't you? I let it go for the sake of getting this recon mission finished, but now that it is, you'd better fess up."

Susan looked downcast, "Well, I was going to wait until we were all back together to "fess up". It's just something that I read in Swanwhite's diary—oh, Ed, it was horrible."

Edmund penetrating blue eyes softened, "Well, alright, let's get back in a jiffy—I can't wait to hear, and oddly enough, I have something I'd like to share too."

* * *

The tetrarchs stood, once again, in the room where the maps lay, but no one gave the maps a second thought. They only stared, a little dumbfounded at Swanwhite's diary, lying open on the table after Susan read the latest entry.

"Wow," Peter breathed, finally finding his voice, "_That's_ quite disturbing, to say the least, especially since we've only heard that _those_ Giants were friendly—someone is well off the mark in their scouting report."

"Perhaps due to old rumors and a hundred years of isolation?" Lucy suggested.

"Maybe," Peter consented to agree, "but I wouldn't swear it in Ed's courtroom."

"Speaking of me," Edmund said, stepping forward and pulling the ancient paper out of his coat, "I actually may have found another piece of the puzzle—it's a list of animals—I found it crumpled up in this very room as we were leaving. It didn't make sense then, but I'm afraid it does now. The notes corresponded perfectly with Swanwhite's account."

Peter's brows arched, "So you think the Harfang Giants made a list and it somehow ended up here?" He gave a low whistle, "And here I thought that Ettin Giants didn't have a writing system—does this list say what happened to our countrymen?"

"Well, first off," Edmund began, "it's not written in Ettinish—if that's even a word—the writing is Narnian, and it does have a small map laid out under the list of animals, but I've got no idea what the map is for—it leads to the base of the bridge. Do you suppose we ought to just assume that's where the burial site is?"

Peter looked troubled and confused. He muttered mostly to himself, "I wonder how…what?"

"Oh, please, Peter!" Susan broken in for the first time, "We have to go check—those poor Beasts."

Peter slowly nodded his agreement, "That we do, indeed."

"We should go as soon as possible," Susan said, suddenly more animated than she'd been since they'd left Cair Paravel.

Peter couldn't help but smile at his normally stoic sister's enthusiasm, and he nodded emphatically. "That we will indeed, my dear," he said. Then he nodded toward Edmund, tossing his brother the keys to Sorvete, "Lock us in, Ed." he ordered.

When Edmund returned, they all took up chairs around the birch table, and Peter outlined their next move, "The bright shiny sun won't do for this new mission, any more than it did for the last one—so here's the plan: we eat a quick nutritious breakfast, sleep till high noon, spend the rest of the day locked in this room till we've made our plans, and then, _and only then_, do we emerge at quarter after midnight to carry out this new task."

* * *

It was nearly three-o'clock in the morning when four shadows slipped noiselessly up to the huge boulders near the base of the bridge. None of them spoke aloud, but communicated their intentions through hand signals. After a quick silent conference, in which they all crowded around the map, they moved swiftly to the bridge. The two youngest began attacking the hard ground with shovels, while the older two stood on guard, weapons at the ready. The only sound was the thudding of shovels and to the Pevensies those thuds were much too loud.

Edmund's shovel struck a hard rock and the clank seemed to echo off the surrounding hills. Peter gave him a sharp look, but Edmund only shrugged and struck the ground again, backing away a step to avoid hitting the rock again. Suddenly, there was a stirring behind some short bushes on Susan's side and she swung around to coolly point an arrow toward them. Lucy, whose back was toward the bushes, stepped deftly to the side so that she could keep watch, but she never stopped digging.

"Show yourself," Peter spoke softly, but sternly, his legs ready to spring and his sword ready to swing.

A craggy-looking Black Dwarf slid slowly into view, with a dagger held in front of him. "Who's given you permission to disturb the place where murdered Narnians once laid?" He asked gruffly, "I see in your eyes that you've come seeking our dead, how did you know of them?" He laughed, "Not that it matters, our dead were moved from there long ago."

Lucy gently responded, hoping to defuse the Dwarf's suspicions. "We came to collect them, because they're our countrymen too, and we wanted to be sure that they are properly looked after."

The Dwarf gave her an uneasy look, "_Your countrymen_?" He questioned, "Who are you to call them your countrymen?"

Edmund answered this time. "We're your kings and queens," he said flatly.

The Dwarf squinted at them in the darkness then slowly began to lower his dagger, before dropping it all together. "Ohh, I beg your pardon, your majesties," he stammered, " I didn't recognize you in the dark—though I should have—I'm so sorry—but why are you in Ettinsmoore? And so early in the morning? I didn't think royalty could do something like that!"

Peter lowered his sword and motioned for Susan to lower her bow. He gave the Dwarf a crooked smile, "Now, my dear Dwarf," he said, "One thing royalty _does_ do—if they're good—is look after their countrymen, which is why we're here, but one thing that's generally _not_ done, is divulging royal plans to one who's not part of the operation. And, another thing, if you didn't believe that _royalty_ is allowed a late night foray into a foreign land to conduct a righteous deed, then what makes you think a _private citizen_ has the right to cross the border?"

The Dwarf suddenly remembered himself and gave a belated bow, "Forgive me, your majesties, my name is Faible," he said, by way of explanation, "I lead my people in watching over this sight, so that it's never desecrated—though it _has_ been empty for many years."

"Where are the poor dears now?" Susan asked, with a pained look on her face.

"Behind Sorvete, your majesty—my people saw to that during the Witch's reign, for fear that the White Lady would sell the skins for coats in Tashbaan—the Witch had a fairly close relationship with the Harfang Giants _and_ the Calormenes. Then we committed ourselves to watching over both sites, until such a time as the bodies could be properly taken care of. A funeral pyre was too dangerous to make during the time of the Witch, and well, I suppose that we got so busy watching out for this place and the other burial site, that we have yet to take care of them, even those the Witch is gone."

Edmund pulled the ancient paper from his coat and showed it to Faible, "So this, I presume, was written by someone from your clan?"

The dwarf needed only to glance at the paper, then his eyes lit up and he confirmed the King's question with a nod, "That list was made when we brought the poor souls out of this hole. It was made to make sure that everyone was accounted for and the map was made so that we could find the site—we had only scant rumors about where to look, and I daresay, we found it quickly despite that—just three days, my grandfather told me."

"And the song?" Lucy suddenly remembered to ask, "We heard from a Snow Leopard that your children sing about the tragedy. She seemed to think it was disrespectful."

Faible looked horrified, then incensed, "The Snow Leopard is mistaken," he growled, "Our children _know_ _better_ than _that_! They do sing—yes—they sing in _memory_ of our fallen countrymen, and they sing in _anticipation_ of the day when all will be put right." He studied the tetrarchs, then chuckled softly, "A day that seems to be at hand…"

"Take us to them," Susan commanded simply, without waiting for Peter to ask. Then she remembered and looked at her older brother. Peter simply nodded and smiled.

* * *

It was late morning by the time the final shovel of dirt was dumped aside and Peter pulled a weathered-looking oak trunk from the hard ground behind Sorvete. He brushed aside the dirt and snow, then reverently opened the latch. Everyone held their breath and tears started flowing at the sight of the long dead, but perfectly preserved, bodies.

"And, you're sure all of the Beasts are here—nothing was ever stolen?" Peter asked softly, unable to take his eyes off the sight, although his vision was blurred with tears.

"It would have brought shame to my clan if something like that happened, your majesty—no, I'm certain that all of them are here."

"Good—then let us be the ones to close this chapter in Narnian history," Peter's voice rang with resolution, "Build the funeral pyre and summon the good mountain-folk, so that they may bear witness."

* * *

**Author's note**: This chapter is sponsored by **Psalm 143**.

Yes, I'm back and I had a nice break from this long one. I'm glad you've all been able to stick it out, and will continue on with me. I've been rather uninspired at times in getting this done, although the idea was in place, getting it typed out has been something of a beast. On the upside, I just finished a great book and I'm looking forward to reading another, as soon as I can get my hands on a copy—Has anyone ever read **Bonhoffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy? **Oh, and I'm also learning embroidery. And then there's just plain life… All these distractions from writing…

To **Guest**: Thanks!

To **Raina**: Really? I love Golden Age fiction! I'm glad you're enjoying this one.


	8. Happy Birthday, Corin

"It's just not fair, Lu!" Susan said, looking aghast, as the two sisters made their way, via a secret stairway, from the Throne Room to the wing of the palace where the tetrarchs' bedchambers were located.

Lucy giggled, not bothering to contain her mirth, as Susan continued complaining.

"I mean, really dear, how is it that _you_ get to stay home to greet Corin and his entourage, while _I_ have to go out and settle a dispute between the Marsh-wiggles and Marsh Red Dwarf clan—who, _of course_, are rather _famous_ for their disagreements!"

Lucy's joyful laugh echoed off the stone walls, "Because," she teased, with dancing eyes, "We drew straws, and I won!"

Susan rolled her eyes, and grumbled, "It's a good thing that we're not hosting the Calormenes, what with the racket you're making."

"Well, look on the bright side," Lucy continued teasing, "Peter and Ed have things to do as well, so they'll miss the Archenlanders arrival too—you three will just have to wait till you get home."

"It'll take me all day." Susan grumbled, almost to herself, rolling her eyes again, "Those two groups _never_ get along."

Lucy took the rest of the stairs at a run, chanting, "I won, I won, I won." Susan took off after her.

"Hey, wait—you little pest!"

She caught up just as Lucy reached the false wall and fell against it in gales of laughter. The wall lid back as the younger queen's weight triggered the secret door, and Lucy tripped into the hallway, just missing a collision with the startled Faun, who was standing guard.

"Opps! Sorry about that, Ged." she smiled, her face reddening.

Susan emerged gracefully a moment later to give the Faun a bright smile, "I'm afraid my sister is _entirely_ too happy tonight, Ged." she explained.

Ged gave a small smile in return, embarrassed by all the attention.

Susan hauled Lucy to her feet, and gave her a lopsided smile, "See there? That's what you get for gloating!"

Lucy sobered up for a second or two and even managed to look downcast. "Yes, I understand now…" she began. Then the tall tale glimmer of mirth suddenly reappeared in her eyes, and a bright smile split across her face, "But, I won!" she finished.

Susan gave an exaggerated huffed, and rolled her eyes a third time, before pulling Lucy into a warm embrace, "Good night, my dear little pest," she murmured, "I do hope you enjoy the spoils of victory tomorrow."

"Oh, I'm quite sure that I will." Lucy replied, her eyes still dancing.

"Hey, what about us? Don't we get hugs? We like hugs." Peter's voice came from down the hall, as he and Edmund strolled up, side by side.

"Lu isn't still rubbing in her great victory, is she?" Edmund asked, although, his expression said that he already knew the answer, "I still can't believe that _I_ didn't win!"

"Hey, what about me? I'm the High King—shouldn't _I_ have won?"

"Like salt in an open wound, I'm afraid," Susan remarked, answering Edmund's question, "I've been trying to convince her that negotiating with the Marshwiggles and Marsh Dwarves needs someone with a _valiant_ heart, but, I'm afraid it's all been for naught."

"That's because _I'm_ of the opinion that it needs a _gentle_ hand!" Lucy gave her sister a wicked grin, before continuing, "and, of course—I won, I won, I won!" She danced around in a little circle.

Peter did his best to look stern, but his lips couldn't contain themselves and slowly turned upward. Finally, he managed some words, in mock sternness, "Well, as High King, I hereby send our young pest to her room for a good night's sleep, so that she may be rested enough to enjoy her smashing victory—and I hereby order the rest of us to bed so that we might each be able to plot _merciless revenge_ for our heavy losses!"

Lucy doubled over with laughter as Edmund wrapped his increasingly burly arms around her, "I've got her," he called, laughing as Lucy squirmed in his grasp, "What do you want to do with her?"

"Oh, no," Peter said, smiling cryptically, "She'll have to wait to find out her fate—why don't you dump our sweet little pest in her room till morning, brother, then I think it would do us all good to get some sleep—we've all got places to be in the morning, after all—or at least _most_ of us do."

Lucy's giggles could still be heard even after Edmund closed her door.

Susan was still laughing to herself as she walked into her room, and Nary, her Naiad lady-in-waiting, was instantly at her side to begin letting down the Queen's raven hair.

"I'm pleased to see you so happy, your majesty," The Naiad's voice reminded Susan of a calm stream, "I know how difficult this time is for all of you."

"Susan smiled, "I'm perfectly fine," she replied, with a small smile, "Aslan taught us all how to deal with missing Cor, and, of course, this next week will hold a great deal of fun and there's no way we'll take that away from Corin—I can hardly believe that he'll be four year old tomorrow!" She turned toward Nary with a serious look, "But, I'm afraid that I must be up very early tomorrow, to manage a disagreement between the Marsh Dwarves and the Marshwiggles—honestly, I'm thinking of reading them the riot act so I can get back here before Corin has a chance to tear the palace down…"

"Of course, your majesty—I'm sure they deserve it," Nary's laugh was like a bubbling stream. "I've got your bath drawn already," she added.

"Thank you, Nary."

A bit later, Susan crawled under the warm violet-colored quilts on her bed and patiently flushed her flattened pillow. Then she stuck a match and lit a tall white candle on her nightstand and settled in to read another entry in Swanwhite's diary, this book bound in golden cloth with a dark green pine bough sewn into it.

_What an exciting day it has been! Although, I daresay, I felt a twinge of sadness, there's no way I would have let that hinder the celebrations that are now underway. Ah, it's such a happy time when someone new enters into service here at the Cair, and this year's welcoming party has certainly lived up to its hype Of course, I always regret the retirement of some of my dear old friends, and quite honestly, I feel older than my years when I see those that have been here for years and years leaving my staff, but I do understand that old age, retirement, and even death, come to us all in our turn. My new lady-in-waiting, a faun named Pearl, has such an amazing sense of humor and I'm delighted that she's come to serve here. Oh, of course, she's made some mistakes, but don't we all when we start a new job—or, goodness knows, as we travel down the path Aslan lays for us? I'm so very pleased with Pearl, and I know that she and I will become great friends, and I anticipate being able to watch her grow and progress to be what Aslan calls her to be._

It's quite true, Susan thought wistfully, I feel older than my eighteen years, and I'm sure the others feel the same way. But, we must be older than we appear, she reasoned, for how could we govern if we, just four years removed from our own world, were still those kids that came though the wardrobe? She laughed softly at the thought, then snuggled under her quilts and fell asleep.

* * *

Lucy stood on the battlement overlooking Cair Paravel's wide front lawn, her glittering blue eyes trained on the party of horses passing though the front gates. Finally, she spotted a little dappled pony being led by an older knight, and her face split into a radiant smile. She immediately fled toward the closest stairway, then bolted across the lawn. The horses had not yet stopped when the pony's little rider jumped from his saddle, and flew into her arms, his scruffy golden hair sticking straight up in several places.

"Corin!" Lucy scolded, with mild shock, as she held him close, "You'll get pummeled by your own pony, or one of the other horses, if you continually jump off before everyone has stopped." After a moment of thought, she added, "Even on your birthday!"

"Queen Ucy," he squealed, as the Queen knelt down to hug him, "Where is Queen Usan? And King Eter and King Edmund?" he asked.

Lucy pulled back, frowning, and shook her head, "You're too old to speak that way, Corin," she admonished, "Why, what would my sister say? Or my brothers? A knight mustn't speak like that, and that's partiality why you're here—to begin your training."

Corin started to say something, but Lucy had already stood up to greet the rest of the Archenlanders. The older knight, Corin's pony still in hand, made his way toward her, dismounted, and bowed.

"My apologies, your majesty," he said in a voice gravelly with age, "for our young scallywag's behavior—he _does_ know better than to jump off his pony before the company has stopped."

"I know he does, Sir Crugold," Lucy nodded, "and I know that eventually your Prince will settle down and behave as he should."

Sir Crugold chucked, "Perhaps a bit sooner, rather than later, eh, m'lady?"

Lucy's dimples appeared, "Perhaps."

* * *

A bit later, Corin skipped up to the door leading to the Cair's armory and nearly bumped into a Black Dwarf that stood waiting. The dwarf, Shaorin, scowled darkly at the bright smiling lad.

"Oh, hello," Corin said, unfazed by the dark look, "I'm sorry—I say, where's Queen Lucy?"

"She'll be here momentarily, young lad," Shaorin replied sternly, even as his gnarled lips tweaked upward.

"Oh—is King Peter back yet? Or King Edmund? Or Queen Susan?"

"No, young Prince—or at least I haven't seen them."

"Who's going to teach me swordsmanship, if the kings aren't here?"

"You're not going to use a sword today, Corin," Lucy's voice came from behind them, "You'll be learning to throw the dagger this week—my specialty."

"Ahh, Queen Lucy," Corin started to complain, till he caught the look on her face.

"Corin," she stated, "Can you ride a full-sized horse without getting boasted into the saddle?"

"Well, no—I'm too short to reach the stirrups."

Lucy pulled a sword from the wall and held it, pommel on the floor, next to Corin. The point stood about six inches above the Prince's head.

"Does this look like something you could manage without a bit of help?"

Corin shook his head, "Well, no…"

Lucy put the sword back against the wall, and produced her dagger from its pouch, hooked to a belt wrapped around her slim waist, "Does this look more your size?" she asked.

Corin nodded slowly, admiring the beautifully wrought pommel. "Yes," he said.

"Shaorin," Lucy asked, turning to the dwarf, "Do you have a dagger for our young squire?"

The dwarf gave the brightest smile that Corin had ever seen on a dwarf's face. "Yes, your majesty," he replied, then handed her a small plain dagger. The Queen passed it to the Prince.

Corin, in his excitement, started to spin the dagger in a wide circle around his head, but his hand was stopped mid-arch, caught in the vice grip of Lucy's hand. However, it was Susan's voice that everyone heard.

"_Corin_!" the older Queen's voice was sharp, "_What are you thinking_?"

The dagger fell to the ground with a clatter, and Corin's eyes got huge. He started to run toward Susan, but Lucy held him fast, then he burst into tears, "I-I'm sorry, Queen Susan—I didn't mean to cause harm—I just didn't think—"

Lucy swept him into her arms, "But that's the problem, Corin—you didn't think—and that excuse cannot hold water all your life. If our brothers are going to train you to be a knight, then you _must_ start thinking before you act or speak!"

Susan hurried over and took the youngster in her arms. She felt mild pity for his tear-stained face, but not enough to stop her rebuke. "Corin, my sister speaks the truth. Aslan himself commissioned our brothers as knights only _after_ they learned to stand up to their temptations, and He'll do no less for you. Peter and Edmund will teach you to _wield_ a sword, shield, and battleaxe, but _you've_ got to learn to control your words and actions before the Lion will see fit to bestow the blessings of knighthood on you."

Corin looked downcast. "That's what Father said," he grumbled.

"Your father is a wise man." Susan replied, then turned to Lucy.

"The boys and I got back about the same time and Peter thought it would be fun to head out a little early so we can enjoy the ride to Dancing Lawn a bit longer—they're getting Diamond saddled for you, so I came to collect you and Corin. I've already alerted Sir Crugold, and sent him to get his horse and Corin's pony ready."

"But what about my lesson?" Corin complained.

"It looks as if it has been postponed," Lucy answered, while stooping down to retrieve the dagger from the floor. She handed it to Shaorin, who waited patiently, "It looks like we'll use this another day," she told him. He nodded once, then spun around and left.

"But-but—"

"Hush, Corin—there is a birthday surprise waiting for you at Dancing Lawn."

In no time, the two Queens and young Prince exited the palace and hurried to the royal barns, where five royal chargers, one pony, several pack horses, one old knight, and two young Kings waited patiently.

"And how is our newly-minted four-year old?" Peter asked, hailing them.

"As brash as ever," Susan replied, without a change in her expression.

As they swung into their saddles, Edmund leaned across toward Peter, "Do you suppose she means that in a good way or a bad way?"

"Bad." Susan replied, hearing the question.

Peter arched a brow in Corin's direction, but the young Prince saw it, and declared hurriedly, "But I'm going to do better in the future!"

Peter's brow rose higher, "Good, I plan to hold you to that, young squire." Then he called in a loud voice, "Move out!"

The ride to Dancing Lawn progressed slowly, not because of any particular hindrance, but simply because the tetrarchs chose to take their time. As they rode, they took time to talk with anyone who crossed their path and Susan and Lucy often dismounted, carrying huge baskets, to pick flowers of all colors. Sometimes, the delayed longer to weave leis out of the blooms they'd chosen, while their brothers and Sir Crugold chatted or relaxed. Corin was the only one who complained, until, finally, Edmund rode close and whispered something about staying up past his regular bedtime. After that, Corin often suggested that a stop be made. They finally arrived at Dancing Lawn in the late afternoon, but much to Corin's disappointment, there was no surprise.

"I thought you said—" he began, but Edmund pressed his finger to his lips.

"Remember what I said, Corin—the later that we have to hang out here, the later we'll get home."

"Besides," Susan added, with an amused smile playing on her lips, "We can eat a peaceful dinner before the fun starts—and the cooks have made your favorite."

"Alright!" Corin cried, pumping his fists.

As Susan and Lucy set about unfolding the patchwork picnic blanket and setting out the food, and much to Corin's delight, Peter and Edmund playfully spared with their swords, while Sir Crugold watched with mirth and keen insight in his eyes.

"I want to try!" the Prince begged.

"All in good time." Edmund countered jovially, wiping the sweat off his brow.

After a while, Susan called that dinner was ready to be served.

"Chocolate cake!" Corin whooped, quickly running to the blanket and sliding into it, receiving raised brows and shaking heads from the Queens.

"For desert, Corin," Susan reminded him.

"Good." Peter murmured happily, eyeing the stew hungrily.

_"I'll say_, I'm half starved," Edmund agreed, wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulder, "You can still give me a run for my money in a battle."

Peter snorted with laugher and rolled his eyes, muttering sarcastically, "Are you calling me old?"

Edmund smiled mischievously.

"Ah, the kitchens at Cair Paravel never fail to delight the senses," Sir Crugold smiled with satisfaction as he began to roughly lower himself to the blanket.

"No, no, Crugold—please," Edmund said, as he hurried over and raised the old man to his feet again, "My brother and I will pull that log over for you to sit on."

Sir Crugold, laughed, "Nay, your majesty, the day that I will agree to sit higher than you and your brother and sisters—and our dear scallywag—will be the day after I have died."

Edmund released the old man's hand, stepping back, "Well, as you wish, of course."

"Oh, do let's hurry and eat," Lucy said, with an anxious look toward the sky , "It's growing dark, and they'll be—"

She was startled into silence by a sharp look from Susan, but after a moment, in which her cheeks turned rosy, her dimples reappeared.

"_Who's_ going to be here?" Corin asked her, with the cutest face he could possibly muster.

"Nothing—nothing at all," Lucy returned quickly, blushing again, then popping a piece of ham into her mouth to avoid having to answer further questions.

"But—" Corin started again, but Sir Crugold caught his eye and shook his head.

"You're embarrassing her majesty, young one."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Queen Lucy," the little boy murmured, with quiet respect.

Lucy, still chewing her ham, smiled lightly, and nodded her head.

After that there was only the quiet noise of people eating and few polite exchanges when a particular dish was passed around, and then the meal was being put away.

"That was _very_ good, your majesties!" Corin exclaimed politely.

"Why thank you, Corin," Susan smiled, happy that he remembered his manners, "I shall pass along your praise to the kitchen staff as soon as we've returned to the Cair—they will be most pleased."

As it grew dark and the silver moon rose over the treetops, Edmund suddenly asked, in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "Say, do you _hear_ something, Lu?"

"Why, I do believe, I _do_, Ed!" she replied, with an ear splitting grin and twinkling eyes.

"What, what?" Corin jabbered excitedly, "What? I don't hear anything!"

"That's because you're making a racket," Peter admonished, "Pipe down, lad—and you'll be able to hear the pipes!" He laughed at his own pun, and his siblings rolled their eyes.

"Ohhh, did you _see that_?" Edmund asked, playing his part to perfection by staring hard into the woods.

"What?" Corin asked desperately, "I don't see anything—I don't hear anything—you guys are pulling my leg, aren't you?"

Lucy clamped her hand over his mouth, "Be still and listen, Corin—look around."

The young Prince did as he was told and quite suddenly his eyes widen with fear, "I-I see shadows," he said, in a trembling voice, "What are they?"

"Not _what_, Corin," Lucy said, laughing, "_Who_! Look—don't you recognize them? Don't you recognize their song?"

Corin studied the whiling, twisting shadows and listened to their flute music with great concentration for several seconds, until finally, the first shadows emerged from the trees and he saw for sure who they were.

"_Fauns_!" he cried, with delight, as the creatures danced and frolicked around him like Irish step dancers. Then suddenly one of them came near and took hold of Corin. The young Prince soon found himself being twisted about has he clumsily tried to keep up with their steps. Susan and Lucy laughed and quickly entered the fray of dancing feet. Their skirts twirled about their feet and their hair sparkled in the moonlight as they danced the wild dance and tossed leis around the necks of any faun that danced within range.

Peter leaned close his brother, "Are we going to let our sisters and a young squire out do us on the dance floor?"

Edmund laughed, and said, "Speak for yourself!" Then he took a fiddle and bow from his riding pack and set it under his chin.

Peter's jaw dropped, "You play the _fiddle_?" he asked, incredulous, "How could you possibly find the time to learn?"

Edmund smirked, "I am a man of many hidden talents, you might say." Then his expression turned serious, as he concentrated on playing "Happy Birthday".

After several squeaky notes, it was Peter's turn to smirk, "Obviously, fiddle playing cannot be counted among them."

Edmund rolled his eyes and concentrated harder. "I've only been practicing for a couple weeks," he grumbled.

Finally, after a good hour of hard dancing, Corin's steps began to slow dramatically, and the fauns sensed that their part in the celebrations had drawn to a close. They soon slipped back into the trees and all became quiet except for the occasional sounds of a nocturnal animal.

"Corin yawned sleepily, but headed obediently toward his pony for the ride back to the Cair.

"_What_?" Edmund asked, with mock incredulousness, "The man of the hour doesn't want to camp out on his birthday—impossible!"

Corin perked up momentarily, his eyes glowing, "Camp out?" he repeated, "Really?"

"I should think so," Peter replied, with a smile and twinkling eyes, "It's much too late for you to ride home without falling off your pony—unless, of course, you think you can make it?" He grinned mischievously, wondering if Corin would be wise enough to answer correctly.

He need not have wondered. Corin's eyes, sleepy though he was, glimmered with happiness, "_Oh no_, your majesty," he replied, "I'm _much_ too tired to ride back tonight!" Then he gave a huge yawn. "This has been the best birthday _ever_!" he mumbled, already growing sleepy again.

"I think you're a tad young to pass judgment on that," Edmund mused.

* * *

This chapter was sponsored by my own happiness and the desire to get away from a sad chapter. Plus, I think it sort of moves the story along, don't you?

To **Raina**: Ah, that's really sad! I really love Susan too, and I cried at the end of the Last Battle, even after I came to realize that her story doesn't end there. Unfortunately, some people do give her a bad rap, which I think is completely undeserved!


	9. A Peculiar Tarkheena

Susan closed the door to her gaudily decorated suite, and sighed deeply, trying to relax. She was in Tashbaan without her siblings for the first time in the tetrarchs' reign. Oh yes, Peter had sent what seemed like an over-protection force with her when she sailed, but it still wasn't the same. On this trip, there would be none of her older brother's calm quiet confidence to drive her forward, none of Edmund's resourceful knowledge and quick wit to be her ally, and none of Lucy's bubbly laughter and unshakable faith to keep her steady when things went wrong. This time she was on her own and it somehow made her feel adrift.

Of course, after five and a half years as a Queen, she'd been on her share of solo trips, but this would be her first solo trip to _this_ hostile city. How she longed that Peter hadn't needed to fortify their border with Telmar because that country had entered into hostilities with Tashbaan, or that Edmund hadn't been needed to oversee the construction of a new garrison on their northern border, or that Lucy hadn't been needed to settle a land dispute in the Lone Islands that had grown too hot for their Governor to handle. Susan knew Lucy's presence would stop the feud in its tracks, but it had torn her heart when her sister's ship had continued in a steady eastward direction while Susan's ship veered to the south-west. The sisters had thoroughly enjoyed sailing side by side for the first few days.

Onca, lying on a carpet with an ornate design of red and gold figure eights, met her gaze and read her thoughts immediately.

"We shall get you home before the month is out, your majesty," he purred, "and in the meantime, take heart, you're here to celebrate the Tisroc's youngest daughter's coming-of-age party, not negotiate world peace."

Susan smiled at his attempt to settle her nerves and began letting her hair down, musing at her lack of practice and missing Nary. She sighed again, then spoke for the first time since coming into the room.

"Still," she answered him, "A party is much more fun when it includes people that I love and care for. I'm still constantly amazed at the sheer volume of children and grandchildren the Tisroc has, and that's to say nothing of his siblings and aunts and uncles and cousins."

She continued, "Of course, I'd expect _those_ people to come, but then there's the court and all the minor officials and, before you know it, it seem like half of Calormen is invited, then you have all of the other royal guests like us, and I just get amazed."

"I take it you favor the type of party you and your siblings threw for Corin last year," the Cat mused.

"You've got _that_ right—although, I do realize royalty sometimes can't have the luxury of having small intimate parties." She said, with just the hint of a frown.

"I have to say, I'm glad Aslan made you Sons and Daughters of Adam and Eve rulers over us Beasts—I don't believe I could be royalty. Cats are rather private, you know."

Susan smiled at him and he saw her confidence return. He felt a stab of pride at being able to lift her spirits.

Yes, Queen Susan may have felt adrift, but now, she remembered that she knew how to swim.

Her hair unbound, Susan stretched her arms towards the ceiling then climbed into bed. "At least I don't need to fluff my pillow," she said thoughtfully.

"That's the spirit, your majesty."

The big Jaguar lay his head down as if relaxing, although Susan knew better than anyone how quickly he could react to a threat. Without picking up his head, he asked, "Who's on guard tonight, your majesty?"

"The Centaur, Capall, at the outer door, to be relieved by his brother, Cavall, half-way through the night, and just outside the door to this room, the Fauns Gavr and Kanding to be relieved by the Bears Ours and Urs at daybreak."

"Your brother chose well."

"He did indeed."

Susan pulled a curtain back, revealing a tiny window and stuck a match, lighting a tall black candle, provided by one of the slaves that attended the guests' apartments. Then flipping open Swanwhite's diary, this one bound royal blue cloth with a golden scepter sewn into it at a diagonal angle, she settled back to read. The moonbeams bathed her and the diary with their light.

_I've had a most interesting and truly unexpected experience today! I was walking through the woods, just enjoying the crisp cold winter air, and lo and behold, I came across a young Bear cub! I could hardly believe that one so young wasn't hibernating with its mother and siblings. When I asked him about it he stated, quite boldly, that he had no use for hibernation and was only going to do exactly whatever pleased him. He even told me that no one would ever change his mind. Of course, I didn't laugh and encourage his behavior, for Aslan has made it so Bears sleep when winter comes, but I suppose that he'll learn that for himself someday. He was actually quite interesting to talk to and after a while he asked me if he could enter into service at the Cair as a guard. I reminded him that if he did that, then he wouldn't be able to do whatever pleased him whenever he wanted, but he said that he would learn to do that if I let him join up. I told him that he must obtain permission from his mother and that he must not wake her from her sleep in order to obtain it, so he went back to his den in a rather disappointed state. It isn't as if I think that he wouldn't make a wonderful guard, for, indeed, I believe he is a diamond in the rough, but he must learn a few things before he can serve me and the Lion properly. Now, I only wonder if I might see him again when the snow has melted._

Susan lay back against the overstuffed pillows, thankful for the cool desert night that somehow relieved the nearly insufferable heat of the city during the day. She closed her eyes and thought of relaxing in the shade of a tree in Narnia as a gentle breeze blew. It had the same effect as counting sheep and Susan soon fell asleep.

* * *

Susan stepped lightly off the blue marbled steps of the grand lakeside palace of Azul, situated in an oasis on the outskirts of Tashbaan, as a light breeze ruffled her air. It was the perfect day for a party, she thought, unable to keep a smile off her face at the thought of being out of such a depraved capitol. The Tisroc had always had a flare for location, and, as usual, he'd chosen perfectly.

"Your majesty!" a familiar voice hailed her from behind and her back stiffen.

"Why, hello, Rabadash," she murmured politely, "How fortunate for you to not be in Telmar at present, so you could attend your sister's coming out party."

"Ah yes, Tarkheena Aliia is a favorite of mine, no doubt, but I find myself _more_ fortunate to have caught _you_ alone." He extended his hand and Susan wondered if he'd actually withdraw it if she turned him down.

"Careful, your highness," she said, her gaze steady, and her voice carrying only the smallest trace of a warning, "A Queen is _never_ alone."

He withdrew his hand a fraction of an inch and looked bewildered for a nanosecond, but it was enough for Susan to know she'd played a winning hand.

"I see none of your detail." The Prince remarked, but he looked uncommonly uncertain.

"That's because they're well trained."

Rabadash, his eyes darting around the landscape then back to Susan, gave a small bow and murmured, "Perhaps I'll see more of you at Aliia's party. I, ah I am to meet with King Lune shortly to discuss of a new trade agreement that _he_ suggested." He beat a hasty retreat.

Susan kept a Mona Lisa-type smile glued to her lovely features until he was gone, then she rolled her eyes, and mused to herself, "King Lune sent Lord Dar as his representative and stayed at Anvard with a cold, and I _am_ actually very much alone—your people are a bunch of stiff-necks, and Peter will hear about it."

Then she spun around and hurried as fast as she dared towards the great turquoise lake, on the slim chance that the Prince would get wise to her ruse. As she rounded a turn, she suddenly came to a screeching halt and quickly dove for cover behind an oyster-colored pillar. Peering from behind, she watched as an argument erupted between an older, but still beautiful and grand, Tarkheena and a much younger one, one who couldn't have been any older than Corin.

"_Aravis_," the older woman snapped, her bright red lips curling into a snarl, "You _will_ greet Tarkaan Wulf—that's my decision!"

The little girl, her dark eyes flashing with fire, gave thrust for thrust. "_I will not, stepmother_," she snapped, "That old humpback can barely waddle to his horse—_I will not_ meet him and when my brother gets home from Telmar, _he'll_ put you in your place!"

"Have you forgotten, you little shrimp," the older woman drew back her hand, "that while I'm married to your father, your brother can do _nothing_ against me!" Then her hand slammed into the young girl's ear and the little Tarkheena crumpled to the ground, blood bursting forth from where the woman's ringed fingers cut a jagged line across her head. The older woman stood above the body of her stepdaughter, declaring, "You _will_ meet Tarkaan Wulf. Y_ou will_." Then she stormed from the scene in a huff.

Susan waited until the grand Tarkheena was out of sight, then she waited still longer, her eyes never leaving the prone figure of the young girl. She was almost certain that the older woman would not be back and would not send anyone, but rather expect her young stepdaughter to rise and obey when she was conscious again, but still, she thought it best to wait.

Finally, after agonizingly long minutes, Susan stepped into the open and ran to the young girl. Kneeling beside her, the Queen spoke gently.

"Aravis," she whispered, remembering the name the older woman had used. There was no response, and Susan gentle picked the child up and took her inside, leaving a small pool of blood on the tiled walkway.

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Susan was able to return. As she hurried towards the second story room where she'd left the girl, she anxiously hoped the youngster was feeling better. She laughed to herself as she rounded the last turn and saw a couple of young Tarkaans standing guard at the door. They had completely fallen for her excuse that the girl had slipped on the deck after she'd commandeered a small boat and gone rowing in the lake. They seemed to know that the little Tarkheena had a wild streak and Susan was proud of herself for judging the girl's character correctly.

"And how is the fair Tarkheena?" she asked them.

"Much like her usual self, O most beautiful majesty," one of them replied, after the pair bowed deeply.

The other one took up the complaint. "Fair, yes, but she'll _never_ make for a good wife," he scowled, "She's too brash and rude and she plays to much at being a man—no one that _I_ know will have her!"

"Well, may I be admitted to see her?" Susan asked, allowing herself to sound impatient, not trusting the looks these men were giving her. She felt sorry for the young girl beyond the door, but she knew that Tarkheenas were often forced to marry when they were quite young.

"Certainly, O most beautiful Queen," the first guard responded, half hoping that Susan would declare her love for _him_ on the spot.

"Thank you, you've been most kind to trouble yourselves to look after her." Susan replied, not responding to his greedy look. She breezed past the pair as they opened the door and stood aside.

The door closed without a sound and Susan found herself staring at a pair of flashing indigent dark eyes.

"_Who gave you permission to come in here_?" Aravis hissed, "Why I have a good mind to call down the fires of Tash to punish you for your indiscretion! Imagine entering into a Tarkheena's bedchamber unannounced and uninvited! How dare you! What sort of rabble do you come from? Where are—"

"My name is Susan." Susan interrupted flatly, unimpressed by the girl's threats, as she crossed the room to stand beside the irate girl, "_Queen_ Susan of Narnia."

She continued calmly, "I came to Tashbaan for Tarkheena Aliia's coming-of-age party and I witnessed the argument between you and your stepmother. I took you here when you didn't revive right away."

"_Heathen_!" Aravis snarled furiously, "How dare you touch me? Do you not know who _I am_—do you—" Then she stopped, as if suddenly aware of something, "Why didn't you say "may he live forever" after the Tisroc's, may he live forever, name?"

"Because that's not what I believe." Susan answered truthfully.

"_Heathen_!" Aravis growled, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes throwing flamed daggers, "Why you're worse than my slave girls—at least _they_ kneel before Tash." She tossed her head indifferently, saying, "Of course, I'd have them whipped and beaten and starved if they defied me."

"We have no slaves in Narnia," Susan's voice was suddenly cold, but Aravis shrugged indifferently.

"That's why your land is nothing more than a waste pit—once the Tisroc has conquered it, _he'll_ put it as it should be."

Susan folded her arms over her chest and gave the young Tarkheena a cold look, but said nothing. This girl is nearly impossible, she thought, but strangely, there _was_ something about her that aroused Susan's curiosity, as if she'd been giving the gift of seeing a diamond begin to form, deep underground.

Suddenly, noises erupted below the second story window, and both girls' expressions turned curious. Aravis recognized one of the voices but, still weary from her ordeal, was unable to leave the bed. Instead, she snapped, "Open the drapes!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me!"

"Your quite right, I did, but you failed to say, _please_."

Aravis' eyes blazed, "I _never_ say please."

"Then you'll _never_ see what's going on out there," Susan shot back.

Aravis glared at Susan, making shooing motions with her hands, towards the window. "Hurry up," she hissed, "They're doing something."

"You know what I require." Susan said evenly, her arms folded as she stared down at the young Tarkheena, wondering if it were really possible for a child so young to hold so much hate and anger in her eyes.

They continued their stare-down for nearly a minute, before, almost miraculously, Susan thought, Aravis turned away. "Open the drapes, _please_," she said sullenly.

Susan gave her a dazzling smile. "But, of course, my dear," she said, hurrying toward the drapes as gracefully as if she were dancing a waltz.

Once the drapes were secured, the Queen hurried back to the young girl, picked her up, and moved her to a divan next to the window.

I didn't ask you to move me."

"You didn't need too—I can see quite plainly that you can't see the action below while you sit in that bed."

Aravis scowled, then sighed. She knew that Queen was right. After several moments, she stopped sulking and took in the scene below. Two Tarkaans were testing their bows and setting up some targets to shoot at. Pointing towards a Tarkaan with a small humpback, she told Susan, "That's the man my stepmother wants me to marry when I come of age—but he is an old humpback and a fool and I _will not_ marry him."

"In Narnia, no one is forced to marry against their will." Susan replied, and saw, for the briefest moment, a wistful look pass over the young girl's features before her scowl returned.

"You're young to be searching for a husband," the Queen pointed out, although she was well aware of Calormene customs.

"Tell that to my stepmother—she has enough suitors lined up to last me until _I am_ ready to marry." Then still scowling, she added, "They're all completely boring too."

"I'm sure that you'll find a wonderful man someday and you'll happily go to marry him."

Aravis only wrinkled her nose, and sighed, looking down at the inch-thick carpet. When she turned back to the scene outside, she studied the face of the other Tarkaan, then said, "The other man I do not know."

Susan watch the scene with keen eyes as Tarkaan Wulf pointed at one of the targets and took aim. She followed the trajectory that she knew the arrow would follow, and murmured, "His aim is too high."

Aravis cocked a brow at her, "Oh?" she questioned curiously, "How do you know that?"

The Queen moved behind the young Tarkheena and used her arm to demonstrate the line that the arrow would follow on its current course. "If he doesn't adjust his aim, I'd say that his arrow is about to be buried into the door of that little house just beyond the target," she said. Then staring at the lighted room beyond the house's window, she added, "I hope no one opens the door."

"Oh, why not?" Aravis asked airily, "It would be fun to watch old Wulf get what he deserves, and that house is only the house of a slave who watches over Azul, so he's of little worth."

"Every man, woman, child, and Beast has great worth!" Susan snapped angrily, amazed that the girl could be so vindictive and callous, "And it would _not_ be fun to watch one be cut down by the errant shot of another."

Turning back to watch, Susan held her breath and prayed that the door wouldn't open, as Tarkaan Wulf pulled the string taunt and let his arrow fly.

The arrow, true to her prediction, sailed over the target, and lodged itself into the house's wooden door. A moment later, the Queen gasped as the door flew open and an irate man stormed out yelling, his face red as a cherry. Aravis was sent into convulsions of laughter.

"Quiet!" the Queen hissed, wrapping her hand over Aravis' mouth, thankful that the men below couldn't actually hear them. The young Tarkheena's eyes widen and she struggled to free herself, having never been treated like that before.

"You-you _heathen_!" Aravis snarled, her eyes flashing with indignation, once Susan relaxed her grip. "How _dare_ you touch me without permission!"

"Then behave yourself—a man nearly dying due to the stupidity of another is _not_ funny!"

Another stare-down ensured, and, again, Aravis blinked first, turning her head to stare at the floor. After a minute or so, she looked up with a slightly vindictive gleam in her eyes. "So you agree that that old Wulf is a fool?" she asked.

"I don't know the man," Susan replied diplomatically, "but there's no denying that he did a foolish thing just now."

Curiosity replaced vindictiveness in Aravis' eyes. "How did you know that his aim was too high?" she asked.

"I've always loved archery, and I have a bow and quiver of my own." Susan replied. "I love riding my horse, either on hunts or for pleasure and swimming too," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Aravis' eyes glowed with interest. "I _love_ doing those things too, but I don't often get to. Tarkheenas don't get to do that stuff without risking scandal, and ever since my mother died and father remarried and my older brother went to war—well, I've not gotten to do much more than sit around for display as suitors walk past."

"I love balls and feasts and dressing in beautiful gowns as well," Susan admitted, "I think it's entirely possible to enjoy both things though."

Aravis wrinkled her nose, then went on, "My brother was going to teach me to use his sword—on the sly, of course—but he's serving with the army in Talmer currently. I really miss him—he's the only one who ever understood me after mother died."

Susan sat quietly, somehow knowing that the girl didn't want a sympathetic hug, and understanding that merely her presence was a comfort.

After several minutes of silence, Aravis said, "He bought me a filly just before he left. She the biggest filly I've ever seen and I know that she'll be fast when she's grown, though, I haven't settled on a name for her yet."

An odd prickly feeling tinkled up Susan's spine, but she didn't know why.

Suddenly, the voice of Aravis' stepmother was heard coming down the hall. She sounded quite angry and Susan paled, knowing that she was trapped in the room. Aravis snapped to attention, understanding the Queen predicament in an instant.

"There-there," she gasped, pointing to the wall, where a doorknob hung, as if suspended in the air. Its door was painted the same color as the wall and had gone unnoticed before. "That leads to steps that lead to the kitchen and outside from there. I used to hide on the stairs when my family visited Azul before mother died. There won't be anyone around at this time of day." Her eyes widened in panic as they heard her stepmother talking with the guards. "Oh hurry," she pleaded in a whisper.

Susan was already halfway across the room, and in another moment she was gone, lightly running down the steps as fast as her legs would carry her.

Finally, she burst outside, thankful that Aravis had shared her knowledge of the passage. Then she sucked in a sharp breath. She hadn't said goodbye or even thanked the young Tarkheena who'd just saved her a lot of trouble. Sadness swept over her and she wondered if she'd ever meet the girl again.

* * *

**Author's notes**: My heart-felt apologies for the long delayed update. I had wanted to get this up last weekend, but my last two weeks have been uncommonly busy, and I couldn't manage it.

This chapter was sponsored by me wondering about the similarities and differences between Queen Susan and young Aravis. I thought it would be interesting to show them side by side.

To **Raina**: So glad you're keeping up with my story! I'm enjoying your reviews, and yes, I agree with you on Susan. She left her heart in Narnia, for sure. Of course, we can't blame her, can we? I know I'd leave my heart there if I ever went.


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